


When Jaime Met Brienne

by imagineagreatadventure



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe 80s, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Multi, When Harry Met Sally AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-07 02:43:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagineagreatadventure/pseuds/imagineagreatadventure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brienne discovers that there is little to like in a man that believes men and women can't be friends without getting sex in the way.<br/>Jaime discovers there's little to like in a woman who would pick "the other guy" over Bogey. </p><p>Jaime/Brienne When Harry Met Sally AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can a Man and Woman Be Friends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say thank you to all my friends, both in real life and on the internet, who encouraged me in this endeavor. This includes some who have never seen Game of Thrones and others who haven't seen When Harry Met Sally (and of course there are the friends who've seen both who were super into this idea). Seriously, thank you for your support!  
> And now onto the story, I hope you like it.

_A couple is seated in front of a camera. The man is large and fat while the woman rather petite, especially when compared to her husband. The husband begins to fidget quite a bit although he tries not to lean too close to his wife, leaving enough space for her to sit with ease._

_His wife sat more comfortably, although she stared at the camera with large, alarmed eyes like a deer caught in headlights._

_“Sam and I met secretly. I wasn’t supposed to be out at night… my father didn’t like it when his daughters left the house, but I needed help,” she said, paling a little._

_Sam smiled at her and stopped fidgeting. His cheeks were red, “Well, I was with the police department and Gilly needed some help regarding the law. I’m not a very good cop-“_

_“Nonsense,” she shushed him._

_“But I like helping people in need, and Gilly needed help. It didn’t hurt that she was so pretty.”_

_She smiled brightly, as he continued, “So I helped her, with her situation, and we fell in love during it. I couldn’t help but love her. She’s so good and sweet. She’s my Gilly.”_

_“Despite his love for me, I had to be the one to ask him out. He wouldn’t do it.”_

_“But I did ask you to marry me,” Sam corrected._

_“You did do that,” Gilly giggled, holding out her left hand to show the camera the wedding ring, “And now I never need to sneak out to see you.”_

_“No, you don’t,” Sam blushed._

_The scene ends._

* * *

**Chapter One - Can a Man and Woman Be Friends?**

It was over. 

College was finished.

Brienne could finally leave University of Chicago behind and start her dream of becoming a journalist.

Everyone thought she was crazy, leaving right after graduation to go to New York but she couldn’t help it.

She was ecstatic at the idea that she, Brienne Tarth, could finally get her life together and have something happen to her.

Although, at the moment she felt like she normally did. She was being ignored, not being a participant of life, once again stuck on the outskirts while everyone else was dancing in the street. Metaphorically, of course.

She pulled up to the curb where her friend Pia said to meet her. Pia’s new boyfriend, Jaime, a law school graduate of the University of Chicago, was also going to New York and they were going to drive together. When Pia suggested it, Brienne had readily agreed, eager to split the cost of gas and the headache of driving. And Pia had talked up her boyfriend so much, Brienne was interested in determining if Jaime Lannister was truly the sex god Pia proclaimed.

But she was already regretting it.

Pia and her boyfriend were so wrapped up in one another that Brienne almost couldn’t tell whose arm was whose and they had been that way ever since she pulled up, totally unaware of anything around them.

At first, Brienne didn’t even think it was Pia. That was until Brienne spotted the mood ring she gave Pia last Christmas on Pia’s right pointer finger.

After another few minutes of their lengthy goodbye, without any sign that Pia had even _seen_ Brienne, despite Brienne waving at her through the rolled down window multiple times, Brienne sighed heavily before staring at the steering wheel.

The horn was calling to her.

With a quick glance at her friend, who was still intertwined with Jaime, she pressed it.

The short beep tore the couple apart. Still startled, Pia looked over to the car, suddenly beaming when she realized it was Brienne.

“Oh, Brienne!” Pia greeted happily as if her lips weren’t bruised from kissing, “This is Jaime Lannister.”

Jaime raised his eyebrows and the corners of his lips drew into an awkward smile. It was an appraising smile, as if he was looking at a piece of furniture at an auction and deciding how much it was worth. Brienne hated it immediately.

Although she couldn’t deny that he was as attractive as Pia had bragged. His golden hair matched his golden tan, and despite the awkwardness of his smile, it was still quite beautiful, as if he belonged in Hollywood.

But realizing this just irritated her more somehow.

“And, Jaime,” Pia continued, unaware of Brienne’s internal monologue, “This is Brienne Tarth.”

Jaime came closer to the car, still smiling that stupid smile all the while, “Nice to meet you,” he greeted, sticking his hand into the car through the open window.

Brienne nodded, shaking his hand quickly, unwilling to touch him for too long, “Do you want to drive the first shift?”

His smile widened and she could see almost all of his teeth, “No, you’re already there, it’s fine.” He glanced at Pia, who looked mournfully at him, before grabbing his duffel bag and luggage and placing it in the back seat of the car.

While he did that, Brienne smiled at her friend, whose eyes never left Jaime’s figure.

To Brienne’s amusement, he noticed this and went back to his girlfriend, “I’ll call.”

Pia nodded, “From the road please. Find a payphone.”

Jaime’s smile didn’t change, but Brienne noticed his green eyes glimmering in amusement, “I’ll call you right now.”

Pia giggled (and Brienne tried not to cringe) as he kissed her on the cheek and got himself into the car.

“Bye, Pia,” Brienne said as she turned on the ignition, but Pia ignored her, trying to stare past her to Jaime’s figure.

Jaime blew Pia a kiss as they pulled away, and in the rearview mirror Brienne could see Pia trying to catch it with a giant smile on her face.

“So,” Jaime began, the boyfriend persona melting off his face immediately as they turned onto the highway, “you’re Pia’s friend.”

“Yes.”

He regarded her with amusement, “Surprising.”

Brienne resisted closing her eyes in annoyance, reminding herself that if she did so, they’d crash into another car and die. “How so?” she asked.

He ignored her, instead pulling out a bunch of grapes from his backpack, “Grape?”

“What? No, I don’t want a grape. Can’t you answer my question?” Brienne responded, crinkling her nose.

Jaime smirked as he popped a green grape into his mouth.

She eyed him from the side as he began to spit out the seed, “Don’t you dare do that without rolling down the window.”

“It’s not rolled down?” he mumbled in surprise before doing as she bid and spitting it out the window.

She grimaced.

“You keep those windows pretty clean.”

“This is _my_ car, I need to take care of it. And you still haven’t answered my question,” Brienne stated.

He shrugged, “You two just don’t seem like the type. She’s all peppy and happy and  well–“

“I’m not?” she groused, keenly aware of how she was perceived by the majority populace. 

“Don’t know you well enough to judge, but you’re definitely awkward.”

That stung, “Awkward?”

“You’re as big as a linebacker. That’s going to make any girl awkward, I wouldn’t take it personally.” His green eyes darted to her blue ones, almost as if he dared to take it personally.

She took him up on the dare.

“You’re just as obnoxious as Pia said you could be sometimes,” she declared, turning away from his handsome profile and facing the highway again. She was just glad it was mostly empty right now or else they might be dead. She really needed to pay better attention to the road instead of paying attention to her rude passenger. 

He laughed, “Pia would never say that about me.”

“Fine, she said you weren’t always very tactful, but I know she means obnoxious.”

She could hear him munching and spitting out another grape, “Oh really?” he asked, “I suppose that’s true. What I lack in tact, Pia makes up for in buckets.”

“She’s probably too tactful,” Brienne muttered, wishing that Pia had been more honest about how annoying her boyfriend was.

Or perhaps she didn’t know. Maybe he was nicer to pretty Pia than he would be to beastly Brienne.

She sighed.

This was going to be a long ride.

It seemed as if the same thought occurred to Jaime, “Hey, tell me your life story, we have hours to go before we get to New York.”

Brienne clenched her jaw, “My life story won’t cover five minutes of our trip.”

He exhaled deeply and Brienne felt irritation coming off him in waves like radiation coming off a nuclear power plant, “Fine, then, why are you going to New York?”

“Going to become a journalist. Sports journalist, hopefully,” she glanced at him to see what he thought of that. Most people laughed when she added the second part, unable to see her dream as anything but a joke.

But it was about to be a brand new decade; women had been going through liberation the past few decades, why couldn’t she become a sports journalist?

His face betrayed nothing of what he thought, “So instead of you doing something exciting with your life, you’re going to write about someone else winning the Olympics.”

Brienne blinked, no one had ever responded that way before.

“Um-“ she stammered, suddenly unsure of herself, “Well, I like sports but I also like writing and journalism, I was the editor on the school-“

His lips curled up into a smirk and she stopped talking and decided to face the road once again.

She couldn’t tell if he was mocking her or not, and that was worse than knowing for sure that he was mocking her.

He continued speaking, “So what are you going to do if nothing happens to you at all?”

“Something will happen to me-“ she started to say, but he kept going.

“No, but what if nothing does? What if,” she could hear the amusement dancing in his voice, “you live for years. Your life is simple and neat and you think you're happy until you realize that all you are doing is just writing copy and doing nothing but that and being bored silly by your own life until the day you die of nothing happening to you. And then it takes them weeks to realize that the awful smell in the apartment building was your dead body rotting.”

“What is wrong with you?” Brienne demanded, hurt. 

She could hear his chuckle before he spat out another grape.

“Who thinks like this, really? And even if nothing happens to me, I’ll do something to change the world, or just one person. Something will happen. I’ll make sure it does.”

“There will be songs about you, I’m sure,” he retorted.

Brienne smiled, “There will be.” If only to spite you, Jaime Lannister, she thought bitterly to herself.

As if he could read her thoughts, he laughed.

* * *

It was a few hours later (and a few shift changes) that Jaime realized how ridiculous this giant of a woman really was.

“You’re saying that you’d pick the other guy over Humphrey fucking Bogart?” he demanded, staring at Brienne.

Her pale cheeks looked as if Cersei had drawn on Brienne’s cheeks with red lipstick. Actually… he could see that happening, knowing his ex step-sister, “Yes, I think I would. Any reasonable woman would,” she stated with an annoying amount of matter-of-factness.

“Why?” he asked, flabbergasted as he pulled into a parking space. The diner looked all right enough, for a highway diner, and he didn’t notice any creeps lurking about. Still, he locked the door on his way out of the driver’s side door and was glad to see Brienne doing the same.

But it was her car so he supposed it made sense that she would.

Her bright blue eyes cut into his skin as she argued, “Like Ingrid Bergman I wouldn’t want to stay! I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of my life in a bar. I’m sorry if that’s dorky or odd, but at least with the other guy she gets to accomplish something in her life, and he’s good to her and, ugh.” She spun away from him and turned to walk to the door of the diner.

He walked next to her and was alarmed to realize he had to look up a little to meet her gaze, “So you’d rather have a loveless marriage-“ she scoffed, “than marry the man you’ve had the greatest sex of your life with?” he inquired.

“Yes, I would! Her husband is a good, no, a great, man and- wait why are you smiling like that,” she asked, suspiciously, as she pushed open the door to the diner.

Jaime hadn’t even noticed he was smiling, but he nodded to the redheaded hostess who handed him two menus and pointed him to a table.

 “It’s nothing,” he muttered as he crossed the diner. Brienne followed him.

“No, what is it?” she asked, as she sat down into the plush red leather seat. He sat across from her and grinned.

“You’ve obviously haven’t had good sex yet,” he stated.

At this every inch of Brienne’s pale skin turned bright red and he could feel laughter bubbling up in his chest.

“Brienne the maid, I see.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, her blue eyes darting back towards his. He smiled at her.

“So are you a maid or are you a woman who has never had good sex?”

He could see the war playing out behind her eyes as the waitress came up to the table, “Do you two know what you’d like to order yet?” the waitress asked with a practiced smile.

“No, I think we need a few minutes,” Jaime said, as Brienne made an attempt at a smile that looked more like a disgruntled frown.

The waitress nodded and withdrew from the table and Jaime decided to actually look through the menu while Brienne made her decision.

He got halfway down the appetizers list when she decided to speak again, “Fine, I’m a virgin.”

“Shame,” he said with a lazy smile.

“How is it a shame?” she frowned.

“It means you’ll never understand why Ingrid Bergman should have stayed with Bogey,” he smirked at her over the laminated menu.

Brienne rolled her eyes.

“Do you know what you want to order now?” the waitress asked, appearing next to the table as if she was summoned by Brienne’s eye rolling.

“I’d like the number three with a cola,” Jaime ordered, folding up the menu and handing it to the waitress. She was pretty enough, but she didn’t hold a candle to his ex-step-sister. The waitress nodded coolly, as if she didn’t notice Jaime surveying her figure. Perhaps she hadn’t, he was pretty smooth.

Meanwhile, Brienne frowned at the menu, as if the wench hadn’t had enough time to survey it. It had two pages, it wasn’t as if they were at one of the restaurants his father owned.

After some more deliberation, she noticed that both the waitress and Jaime were looking at her, and blushed. Jaime idly wondered how many times she had blushed in the past few hours of knowing her, it had to be more than six times, “I’ll have the cheeseburger and French fries and a salad and a chocolate milkshake, but no pickles on the burger, please,” Brienne said, handing her menu back to the waitress without even a hint of a polite smile.

The waitress lifted an eyebrow and Jaime held in a smirk. Of course the giant woman had a large appetite it made perfect sense.

As the waitress left, Jaime decided to speak again. “So you really have never…” he trailed off.

She wasn’t blushing now at least, Jaime noted ruefully, “No.”

“Ok then, how far have you gone? Third?” He waited a beat and she stared at him silently, “Fine then, second? Everyone has gone second for god’s sake.”

She avoided his gaze, “I haven’t.”

“God, you really are a virgin. Have you even been kissed?”

She nodded at that, although he noticed a grimace, “Apparently not a very good kiss.”

Her blue eyes snapped to his then, “Shut up,” she growled.

She really was an ugly creature, it was no wonder she hadn’t been kissed thoroughly.

Although, Jaime mused, suddenly aware that he was staring at her, her lips wouldn’t be hard to kiss at all. And although her nose looked like it had been broken three times (Cersei’s nose was perfect and even Pia’s was rather cute) it had some character to it.

She was definitely ugly, but it wasn’t in a _bad_ way.

“I hope you’re ready to eat.”

A chicken Parmesan sandwich appeared in front of him and before he could say thanks, the waitress disappeared.

Brienne grunted, before taking a petite bite into her burger. He had expected her to be one of the sorts of girls who took pride in eating like a ravenous quarterback, but instead she ate rather delicately, almost like Pia when she was dieting on carrot sticks and rice cakes.

But Brienne was eating food that was more commonly seen amongst his male friends when they went out to hit on girls and drink beer, not his girlfriends (or Cersei who was honestly in a league of her own).

He took a large bite of his own sandwich, quickly analyzing her. Her long hair was stylized in that stupid Farah Fawcett haircut that was sweeping the nation (Cersei told him that every single one of her friends had it and it just made her stand out more in a crowd, which he knew she loved). Pia even had it styled like that when she went out with her friends, although Jaime told her time and time again it looked stupid.

And, boy, did it look stupid on Brienne.

If she noticed his staring, she ignored him, instead, she slowly chewed a French fry and took a sip from her chocolate milkshake.

Jaime couldn’t remember a time that Cersei ever ordered a chocolate milkshake. It must have been when they were kids, before Joanna’s and Tywin’s divorce.

Before he ever even dreamed of fucking his step-sister.

He took a sip of his cola and smiled at the thought of his first time with Cersei, sneaking into each other's rooms while their respective step-parents were away. The giantess surely didn’t know what she was missing out on.

They finished their meal in relative silence, although Jaime did sneak peaks at Brienne every so often, mostly out of fascination. The dichotomy between how she looked, the food she ate, and the way she ate was intriguing.  But it ended as all dinners do, with the waitress bringing the check.

Brienne thanked the waitress and took the check from her, her eyes darting up and down the slip of paper before handing it to Jaime.

He glanced at it, uncaring, before handing it back to Brienne. He’d have enough money for it, he always did. She glared at him a little but sighed. She took out her calculator from her brown leather purse and pursed her lips in concentration.

It was pretty cute, especially coming from her.

“I think if you give me seven fifty that should cover both your tip and your food,” she calculated, looking at Jaime expectantly.

He dug around his pockets and handed her a ten-dollar bill and shrugged, “Just keep the change.”

Her face fell a little, “I can’t take your money,” she protested.

Jaime blinked, “No one else has a problem with it.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” she stubbornly declared, reaching across the table to hand him back his ten dollars.

He grew annoyed, “Seriously it’s just an extra few dollars, keep it, consider it thanks for letting me ride along in your car.”

Her hand receded across the table a few centimeters, “But-“ she objected, looking quite downtrodden.

“It’ll be more of a hassle to deal with figuring out the change than just giving you ten dollars, and I am not a fan of hassles. Just keep it.”

And with that she took it and placed it on the table next to her quarters and dollars before rummaging in her bag again, frowning ever so slightly.

Jaime smiled and watched her but her perceptive sapphire eyes didn’t ignore his notice.

“Is there something on my face?” she asked, nervously wiping the side of her pert lips and even reaching for her nose.

“No, it’s just that, you’re actually kind of pretty sometimes.”

“Oh,” her shoulders tensed, “Thank you, I suppose.”

He got up from the table and gave the waitress a wave. Brienne followed him, still frowning.

“Don’t need to get up in arms about it, Brienne.”

“If I was in arms about it you’d feel it,” she fumed.

He tsked, “Now, now Brienne, no need to get bent out of shape just because I said you were pretty. In fact, most women would giggle and thank me and fall into my arms.”

“You’re going with Pia!” Brienne hissed as she pushed past him and exited the diner.

He followed her, “Your point being?”

“You shouldn’t talk about women falling into your arms, and you shouldn’t call me pretty after talking about how, how _lame_ I am because I’m such a virgin,” she hissed with, Jaime was amused to realize, quite a bit of venom.

“I can’t call you pretty without it being a come-on? Really, Brienne?”

She stopped in the middle of her tracks and stared at him. Her jaw had even dropped in dismay.

He barked a laugh. “Fine, fine, you want it to be a come-on, I’ll make it a come-on,” Jaime winked.

“I’ll leave you here,” she threatened, digging around in her purse for her car keys.

“Ah, actually I still have the keys. I drove last remember? But I won’t be so hasty as to actually leave you here,” Jaime smirked, “And anyways I take it all back, you’re an ugly wench.”

“You can’t take it back!”

He ran a hand across his brow. This was becoming a nuisance. Remind him to never be nice again, “Why not?”

The wench’s arms flew across her face during her wild explanation, “It’s out there!” she decried, “We both know you said it! Just- just let it lie.”

He reached her car within moments, unlocked his door, and then threw her the keys. She caught it without fumbling, much to his disappointment, but glared at him anyways.

“Ok, I’ll let it lie,” he smiled wickedly, opening up the car door, “Or maybe we should go to a dingy motel room, one with bugs crawling everywhere, but we’ll be having such a good time that we won’t even notice, just fuc-“

“STOP, just stop,” Brienne ordered.

She was blushing again.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to not let it lie, but you know-“

“Jaime, stop,” she warned before putting the keys into the ignition and fastening her seat belt. A moment later and they were on their way out of the parking lot.

He threw her a smile, “But Brienne, my wench, do you mind if I call you my wench?”

Jaime watched her jaw clench, “Jaime, stop. We’re just going to be friends,” she declared, her eyes almost popping out of her head.

It was obviously tormenting her to call him her friend. Jaime had to twist the knife a little more, “Yeah, friends, that’s great. BUT-“

Brienne groaned.

“BUT,” he continued, disregarding the disturbing noise that came out of her mouth, “you realize, of course, that we can never be friends.”

“Why not?” she asked in a weary voice that somehow resembled his younger brother’s when he spoke to Cersei. She hated him for that. 

“Men and women can never be friends. Sex always gets in the way,” Jaime declared.

Brienne’s mouth tightened, and he wondered if he hit a sore spot with her, “Not always,” she muttered.

A stab of sympathy hit Jaime’s heart but he pushed beyond it, unwilling to let this go, “Yeah, always. Don’t give me that look, even with your unusual features, trust me, you are wanted.”

“What?” she snarled, although he wasn’t sure if it was because he called her features unusual or if it was because he said that men wanted to have sex with her.

“No man can be friends with a woman he finds attractive, he always wants to have sex with her.”

“That’s not a problem with me,” Brienne said in an almost patronizing tone, as if he was stupid for thinking that someone would find her attractive.

Jaime thought she was stupider for not realizing her oddness would make her more of a challenge in some men’s books, “Yes it is because men want to have sex with every girl, no matter how attractive they are.”

“Shouldn’t the girl’s opinion matter here?” Brienne retorted.

“Normally, yes, it would,” he conceded, thinking of Cersei and her wish for more control over her life, “but the males already doomed the friendship before the women could ever doom it themselves,” Jaime shrugged, “What can I say?”

She was quiet for a moment, “So I suppose we can’t be friends then.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Too bad,” she stated, but it was in the same tone of voice that Cersei used when saying no to lovelorn suitors, a tone that was, quite simply, missing regret, “You were the only person I knew in New York.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been working on this beast for over a month and it's almost done, so I'm going to try and update it every few days since all I really need to do is write the last chapter and edit. So you shouldn't have long to wait!  
> And please let me know how you feel about this fic, I'm eager to hear everyone's thoughts. Thank you for reading!


	2. You say Poh-tah-to, I say Pa-tah-to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet again.

_“I was dating Ned’s older brother when we met,” the redhead said, turning to smile at her husband._

_His lips didn’t move, but even the cameraman noticed the happy glint in his dark eyes._

_The woman continued, “And at first I didn’t know what to make of Ned. In comparison to his brother, he was so serious and I honestly thought he might’ve hated me, the way he avoided me.”_

_“I never hated you, Cat.” Ned muttered._

_She smiled and patted his hand that was sitting in his lap, “I know, your brother told me. That’s how he broke up with me actually, he said, ‘Catelyn, I like you and all, but Ned is head over heels for you and I can’t do this to him.’ And then he had the audacity to tell me I should try to date you.”_

_Ned smiled then._

_“I was furious and so I looked for Ned. I wanted to yell at him, because I blamed his feelings for ruining my relationship and instead we somehow started talking about my family and my dreams and it was just so lovely.”_

_“We started dating right after that,” Ned reminded her._

_“And we married only a few months later,” Catelyn sighed, her eyes closed in blissful remembrance._

_Ned folded his fingers into her hand, and held it tight._

_The camera focuses on their smiles._

* * *

 

**Chapter Two - You say Poh-tah-to, I say Pa-tah-to**

Brienne sucked Hyle’s bottom lip and he grabbed her waist, pulling her closer towards him.

They were in the middle of a crowded airport, and while normally Brienne would be more nervous about such a display of affection, it was hard to feel that way when she was around Hyle.

He was handsome, although still possibly the plainest man she had ever liked. Brienne had to admit she was always a sucker for a pretty face, possibly because of her own… lack of symmetry. His eyes were a dark brown as was his hair, and the only discerning feature was a scar near his ear, ‘an accident from his youth’ he called it during their first date, as he caressed her thumb with his own.

And now he was saying goodbye to her at the airport, unable to stop kissing her. It made her giddy (and still quite anxious that people were staring, but she wouldn't let her nerves ruin this moment).

It was nice to have someone who wanted to be with her.

The giant woman.

She leaned into his grasp, unable to stop smiling as he stuck his tongue into her open mouth. Such shameless behavior would have once horrified her and now she couldn’t help sticking her own tongue into his mouth.

But suddenly a presence was felt. Brienne pulled away from Hyle, who stared at her, mystified, for a second before looking towards the offending party. She followed his example and was horrified to realize she knew the man staring at them.

Jaime Lannister.

How could she forget his golden face?

He looked just as arrogantly handsome as he had five years before, with a stupid smirk on his face that, Brienne realized with a pleasant jolt, wasn’t directed at her, but at Hyle.

“I see you’re quite busy these days, Hunt.”

Hyle smiled amicably, his eyes darkening, “It’s nice to see you too, Lannister.”

Jaime reached his hand out and Hyle shook it vigorously, both men squeezing each other’s hand until their hands turned red from the pressure.

Such children.

Hyle relinquished first, “So, how are you doing?” he asked with casual interest.

Jaime shrugged, and pulled at his jacket sleeve, “Moved on from the DA’s office, obviously, doing political consulting at a small firm right now. It’s a change. You? Are you still at the DA’s office?”

“Nah, working for the other side. You remember Tarly? He got me to join up with his firm, I’m on route to partnership.”

Jaime whistled, “Nice, Hunt.”

Hyle nodded.

Brienne wondered if Jaime was really this obtuse. How could he not remember her? Did he truly interact with that many obnoxiously tall, blonde women?

“Um, Jaime, this is Brienne Tarth, Brienne, Jaime Lannister. Jaime and I worked together in the DA’s office a few years back.”

Jaime looked towards her and she thought she spotted his eyes flicker with something, although she couldn’t place what, “Hello.”

The three of them stood there silently, as the buzz of people coming to and fro crowded around them. It felt as if they were the pieces of art that were next to the Mona Lisa in the Louvre, the ones ignored by the crowd for the greater masterpiece, although that was fine by Brienne. She was gawked at enough during the day; she didn’t need it during this awkward moment.

“Well, it was great to see you. I guess I’ll see you around,” Jaime smirked as if he was sharing a secret and started walking away from them, towards the long corridor that Brienne supposed led to his plane.

“Thank God he couldn’t place me. I drove from college to New York with him and it was awful.”

Hyle frowned at her, “What happened?”

“He hit on me when he was dating my friend and I said no. Pia… oh no, I don’t remember her last name,” Brienne realized, stricken, “How can I not remember her name, she was such a good friend of mine. ”

Hyle’s handsome jaw became taut, “So what happened?”

“When?”

“He hit on you and then what happened?”

“Oh, nothing really, he was just arrogant and obnoxious like he always is, and I suggested that we just be friends, as a way of keeping the peace, and this I remember distinctly as it still bothers me, he said that men and women can’t be friends!”

Hyle stood up a little straighter and kissed her forehead.

“I think it’s such a ridiculous theory because I have had male friends before.”

“Who?”

“Well, it was mostly in college and my memory is obviously a little foggy, and of course there’s Renly but,” she shook her head mournfully, “Poor Pia. I remember we called her Pretty Pia due to how-“

“Pretty,” Hyle supplied.

Brienne nodded, “Yes, pretty. She was gorgeous. But, Hyle, do you have any female friends?”

Hyle smiled, “No, but I’ll get some if you want me to.” Then he kissed her and all thoughts quickly flew out of Brienne’s brain.

“I love you,” he stated once he left Brienne’s lips.

“You do?”

He nodded emphatically.

She felt butterflies dancing across her body. No one had ever said that to her before. He loved her.

_Her._

“I love you too,” she whispered.

He kissed her again.

~

If Jaime’s eyes had laser vision, he’d be burning a hole in the seat diagonal from him.

Brienne Tarth.

He knew it was her the moment he stared at the couple making out in the middle of the airport.

How could he forget her?

She was the tallest woman he had ever met AND she turned him down.

While he had been turned down before it was never with such… vehemence.

And while her reaction had been, at first, off-putting, it turned into more of an amusing way to pass the time as they drove to New York. Watching her face turn various shades of red was as entertaining as any late night television show.

He heard her speaking to the flight attendant, who was taking her drink order, “Just a glass of water with lemon,” Brienne demurred. The flight attendant nodded and then moved along to the next aisle.

Before Jaime could stop himself, he got up from his seat and tapped the top of Brienne’s head that was popping up over the top of her seat. She looked much too large to be comfortable in coach, why the hell didn’t she go to first class.

Better question, why the hell was he in coach?

She jerked from the touch, and turned to face him, a scowl on her face that quickly dissipated, “Hello,” she stated simply, although her eyes looked much too wide and panicky for Jaime to trust her tone.

“Last time we saw each other was what six years ago?”

“Five.”

“Did you look this good then?”

Her frown reappeared, “No.”

“Did we… you know?” he smirked in an effort to make her blush.

“No!” She noticed that the man next to her was listening, “We drove from college to New York together after graduation.”

The man sitting next to her grinned and looked up at Jaime, “Do you want to switch seats?”

“Ah, yes that’d be fantastic, thank you,” Jaime smiled. He moved into the aisle and allowed the man to sit in his seat, and then quickly sat into the man’s old seat right next to Brienne.

“Wench,” he greeted her cheerfully, resting his hand on the top of her seat, “You were a friend of P-“

Jaime felt the smile sliding off his face. Of course he remembered Brienne and not his ex-girlfriend.

“Pia. Her name was Pia. You can’t even remember her first name,” Brienne snapped.

“So what happened to her?”

“What do you mean what happened to her?”

“Well, you two were such good friends, I figured you would know what happened to her, hell, Brienne,” his voice lowered to a whisper, “I didn’t take your virginity because of her.”

Her jaw dropped and he couldn’t help but smile a little wider at her outraged expression, “Excuse me! I wouldn’t have done it either way. And she was my friend!”

Jaime smirked, “All right, all right. You sure it was worth it though?”

“Yes,” she stated, not grinning even a little bit.

He laughed, “Fair enough. And you were going to be what an athlete or something?”

“Sports journalist.”

“How did that go? Did you make into the boy’s club?”

A small smile graced her face, “Yes, I’m working for Sports Illustrated.”

He whistled, “Good for you. And you’re with Hyle. Wasn’t a huge fan of him when we worked together, but he’s a decent enough guy. You guys have been together what - a month?”

Brienne’s pretty eyes narrowed, “Three weeks… how did you know?”

“You two are all smitten, and he’s taking you to the airport. You don’t do that at any other time other than the beginning of a relationship. That’s why-“

She interrupted him, “That’s ridiculous. Husbands and wives take each other to the airport.”

“That’s a whole different level of relationship though, can’t apply the same rules. And I would know. I’m getting married,” Jaime grinned, unable to help it. The thought of marrying Cersei was why he woke up in the morning. It was finally happening.

“You?” Brienne’s blue eyes widened, “You’re getting married?”

“Yes, to a lawyer like myself. She works at my firm. Cersei is her name but she’s taking my last name.”  It had been Cersei’s dream to be a real, true Lannister and now she would be one. Forever. She hated her birth father’s last name and tried to change her surname to Lannister years before, still tried even after their respective parents’ divorce, but now she wouldn’t have to go through that process. All she had to do was marry him.

But Brienne didn’t need to know the intricacies of his unconventional relationship with Cersei.

“Congratulations,” Brienne said, smiling a little. She had a nice smile. Too bad she rarely used it.

“Why thank you, wench. It’s amazing what falling in love can do to you – you should try it sometime.”

She laughed, or at least it sounded like one to Jaime, it could have been a groan of annoyance, he never knew with her, “I guess I should.”

He watched her, amused that she was thinking of falling in love with Hyle Hunt of all people.

“Yeah, it’s nice being in love. Plus, I don’t have to date anymore, which is great.”

“What do you mean?” Brienne pried.

“I’ve been dating forever Brienne, it’s an exhausting process. You have lunch because that keeps it on the boundary so you don’t feel too shitty if you’ve been rejected then, next you go to dinner with safe topics of conversation, go dancing, which really means me showing off ala John Travolta, you should really see me go at it, I’m amazing on the dance floor, Brienne, then you go back to someone’s place, hers or mine, doesn’t matter as long as we have sex and then I try to lay there quietly as I figure out how much longer I have to stay in bed with her, holding her.”

“That’s terrible.”

“It’s even what your precious Hyle thinks. All men do. How long are you supposed to hold the girl? 30 seconds or for the rest of the night?”

She was quiet for a moment, “What about your fiancé, do you feel that about her?”

He smiled at the idea of trying to hold Cersei all night, “Well, I actually wouldn’t mind holding her, but she likes her space.”

Brienne’s smile became wide and her cheeks were flushed with victory, “So if you find the right person…”

“I guess then, yes, maybe,” Jaime said, unwilling to completely acquiesce, “But only then, and it takes a long time to come to that moment, so don’t be getting any ideas about Mr. Hunt, Brienne,” he warned.

She rolled her eyes.

An hour rolled by with small and easy conversation with the wench, although most of it was him talking and Brienne trying to ignore him.

But it was oddly nice.

So when they got off the plane and entered the Dulles terminal, he ventured to ask her a question that had been weighing on him since he realized they were on the same plane, while they walked on the moving sidewalk together.

“Are you staying here in DC tonight?”

She stopped walking and let the sidewalk take her forward, “What? I mean, yes, I am,” she fumbled, pushing back her long hair from her cheek.

Jaime preferred this style to the haircut she had before, it almost reminded him of Cersei.

“Want to have dinner?”

Brienne looked at him a little suspiciously and he quickly amended his question, “Just as friends?”

“I thought you didn’t believe men and women could be friends.”

“What are you talking about?” Jaime asked, his memory flipping back to the night that they drove together.

“You said that after you hit on me,” Brienne replied, her face placid. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“Oh shit. I did say that didn’t I? Well it’s true… unless!”

“Unless what?”

“Unless they’re both in a relationship with other people but no that won’t work,” he realized, thinking of Cersei’s reaction, “because then the people they’re with doesn’t understand why you’re hanging out with your friend because then THEY think something is lacking in your own relationship so I guess men and women can’t be friends at all.” He shook his head apologetically, “Sorry, wench.”

Brienne looked exhausted by the end of his speech, “Jaime… goodbye,” she said, reaching out for his hand.

He shook it.

 Brienne quickly released his hand as if she couldn’t handle another man other than Hyle Hunt touching her, and then marched forward away from Jaime.

Jaime watched her go.

And smiled.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter! I probably won't update the next ones as quickly as I want to edit them thoroughly a few more times before posting, but I hope this chapter was fun for you to read! Thank you so much for all the nice reviews!


	3. I Wandered Around And Finally Found...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Men and women can be friends.

_“We were set up on a date by my older brother,” the stiff man said. He shifted uncomfortably in the loveseat, painstakingly avoiding both the camera’s and his wife’s gaze._

_“It was quite a lovely date. Stannis was a very good listener,” his wife remarked._

_Stannis frowned, “Selyse and I got married not too long after our first date. In a church.”_

_“It was very important to me for us get married in a church.”_

_“Yes, it was. Many people came to see us start our lives together. Even my brother showed up. The one who set us up. We knew my younger brother was coming."_

_“Robert's presence was quite a surprise but perhaps it was the open bar that brought him to our wedding.”_

_“Probably,” Stannis said without any humor, still avoiding looking at the camera, “But he wasn’t my best man. Davos was.”_

_“Davos is a good friend of Stannis,” Selyse explained, “They’ve been friends since the war. Davos saved many lives.”_

_“Including mine, he’s a good man, good enough to be my best man,” Stannis stated forcefully, “Even if he was a criminal before the war.”_

_Selyse looked at her husband before speaking, “It was a beautiful wedding.”_

_The scene ends._

* * *

 

**Chapter Three- I Wandered Around And Finally Found...**

Brienne jumped out of the cab and hurriedly paid the driver, not even bothering to count out the exact change like she normally did.

Roslin and Daenerys were waiting for her. The last time they had waited for her was at the movies years ago and Dany practically became an ice queen to Brienne afterwards.

Daenerys did not like to wait. And there were many times when Brienne waited with her that Dany suggested, almost seething, her violet eyes flashing in indignation and suppressed rage, that they go ahead early since the person they were waiting for obviously didn’t care for her and Brienne's time.

Brienne adored Daenerys but she had high expectations of the people around her. Brienne was also guilty of having high expectations - it was just a different sort of expectations.

But Brienne worried that her friends wouldn’t be there anymore since she was a half-hour late to the restaurant. And she needed to see them now, more than she had ever needed them before. They were old friends, good friends, but she had never desperately wanted their love and attention and advice until now.

And yet she was a bit wary of the attention she was going to receive when she dropped the bomb on them. She would have to ease into the topic, like placing a foot slowly in the bracingly cold ocean. Brienne was never one to run and jump into the wave.

“Oh, Brienne, thank God you’re here, we’re just about to order,” Roslin said with one of her sweet smiles.

Dany smiled too, but it wasn’t as kind as Roslin’s, it was piercing. All Brienne could see was the silent ‘you better have a damn good explanation for making me wait’ attached to the smile.

“I’m sorry,” Brienne stammered out as she sat down in the metal seat. She winced. This was why she hated sitting outside when she ate, the chairs were so uncomfortable that she felt as if she was being poked and prodded at every turn.

“It’s all right, let’s just order when the waiter comes back,” Roslin chirped happily.

Dany frowned, “Don’t change the subject, Roslin,” she leaned over to half-whisper at Brienne, “We were just talking about her affair.”

“Is affair really the right word?” Roslin asked, before placing the menu in front of her face. Brienne knew Roslin’s cheeks were probably bright red.

Dany huffed, “She was just telling me that she looked through what-his-face’s pockets-“

Roslin folded the menu, her pretty eyes darting to Brienne’s, “I found a receipt for a dining room table. He’s not going to leave her.”

“You’ve known this for two years,” Dany stated practically. She took a sip of her ice water.

“I know,” Roslin agreed, her voice small, “you’re right, of course you are.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t find someone single. I knew plenty of single men when I was out there, and, hell, even Brienne has someone,” Dany pointed out. Brienne tried not to let her feelings be hurt by the ‘even’. Dany spoke the truth after all.

“She got the last good one,” Roslin retorted, shaking a little. A brown curl escaped from her ponytail, but she didn’t notice.

“Actually, Hyle and I are not together anymore,” Brienne announced, almost grateful for the segueway. At least now she could relieve herself of the burden. Telling them was going to be hard but now it was over with.

“What?” Dany’s pale eyes widened.

“What?” echoed Roslin.

“When?” they chimed together.

Brienne tried not to smile. At least she diverted the attention from Roslin’s terrible love life… and onto her own. She sighed, “Monday.”

“You waited three days to tell us?” Dany demanded, folding her arms.

“Yes?”

“So Hyle’s available?” Roslin asked after a moment of deliberation.

“Roslin Frey!” Dany warned, as if she was speaking to her son Rhaego rather than her old friend, “Brienne is obviously upset-“

“No, no I’m fine,” Brienne corrected, smiling a little, “Hyle and I have been growing apart for a while.”

Roslin stared at Brienne, “But I don’t understand… you were together. You had someone to be with –“

“I’m thirty-one years old, Roslin. I needed someone that fit me better than Hyle. He’s a decent enough sort, but-" Brienne hesitated, "I deserve more.”

“Be careful, Brienne, you know the clock is ticking,” Dany said, patting her pregnant belly. Brienne glanced at Dany’s stomach, she knew Dany was ecstatic about having another child after Rhaego, her three year old.

“I know. But I’m ok. I have a few more years,” Brienne stated, already tired of explaining herself.

Dany tut-ted.

“Are you ready to go out there again?” Roslin asked, already reaching into her bag to grab her rolodex that was filled to the brim with men’s numbers.

Brienne despised Roslin’s rolodex.

Roslin continued, ignoring the glare that Brienne was directing at it, pulling out a card, “Because I have the perfect guy for you, since you don’t have a problem with hairy chests.”

“Who?” Brienne asked, resigned.

“Jorah Mormont.”

“You set me up with him years ago, before Hyle,” Brienne reminded her. And dear God it was one of the worst dates she had ever had. He asked after Dany too much for it to just be a friendly interest. And his complaints about his beautiful ex-wife, while justified, were too much to deal with on a first date. Plus, she could tell that he had zero interest in a woman as large as himself, he was like most men. He preferred a pretty, petite woman with curves.

Dany looked horrified as well, “For God’s sakes, Roslin, isn’t he still infatuated with his ex-wife?”

“Fine,” Roslin relented, pulling out another rolodex card, “How about Garlan Tyrell.”

“Married.”

“Oh,” Roslin frowned, folding the card back, “married.”

“This is ridiculous, I’m not dating anyone right now.” _Who would want me,_ Brienne thought glumly. “It’s just not the right time,” she added.

“You’re not ready?” Dany asked in disbelief.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just - I don’t want to. I don’t need a man to be happy right now. I have my work and my friends and I’m ok. I’ll let you know when I want to be fixed up, but right now it’s just not fair to any man for me to date him. He’ll just be a-”

“Transitional man,” Dany supplied.

Brienne nodded, “Yeah, that. And it would be nice to get to know myself again.”

The two other women nodded, but their nods were hesitant, as if they didn’t understand what Brienne was talking about, but neither of them understood how awful it was to be this ugly and tall. They couldn’t understand that she wasn’t ready to get out there, not because of Hyle, but because she couldn’t stand to be the joke date.

Again.

* * *

The wind slapped Jaime in the face, and he zipped up his coat further, trying to avoid the sting that reminded him far too much of Cersei.

“So she’s really gone?” Edmure asked. It looked as though he was barely talking to Jaime, as his eyes hadn’t left the football field for one moment.

“Yup, I came home from work last week and she says to me, as if she’s ordering coffee, ‘I don’t want to be married anymore.’”

“Fuck.”

Jaime nodded, and pulled his hat a little farther down to escape the wind, “I argue with her immediately because you know how difficult this was for us to be together. It’s an epic love story, something you’d see in the movies.”

“Step-siblings in love,” Edmure said wryly, getting up to prepare for the wave.

Jaime got up and waved his hands as well before sitting right back down on the hard plastic seat, “Oh, shut up,” he retorted, before his grim thoughts took over once more, “You know it took years and lots of sex for us to get marr- fine, for Cersei to agree to marry me.”

“What happened after you argued with her?”

 Jaime grimaced, “Eventually she starts shrieking at me, losing her cool entirely, talking about how I don’t understand how the world works and how she never really loved me.”

“She never loved you?”

“I don’t know,” Jaime focused on the field. A quarterback was sacked and he couldn’t even tell which team was which anymore, “I couldn’t respond, because right after that, there’s a knock at the door. And there are fucking movers outside.”

“So?”

“They knew before I did. She didn’t even have the decency to tell me before the movers.”

Edmure grunted, “You know I never liked her-“

“Yeah and she hated your guts too. And apparently mine.”

“I doubt she hated you.”

“She didn’t love me and in the end it’s the same thing.”

Edmure patted him on the shoulder awkwardly, “I’m sorry, Jaime.”

“The worst part is she is with someone else. She cheated. I should have listened to Tyrion.”

“What does your brother have to do with any of this?”

“He warned me months ago, that Cersei was sleeping with other men, but I didn’t believe him. How could I when I fucked her almost every night, held her every time she let me, started looking at fucking nurseries because she said she was almost ready to have kids.”

“Who is she with now?”

“I don’t know. I followed her to his apartment but I couldn’t figure out who it is. He’s probably someone with power though, she always followed the power when she wasn’t with me.”

The wave started again, and Jaime reluctantly got up to wave his hands.

“Marriages don’t break up just because of cheating, Jaime.”

“Well, they sure don’t end on arguments about breakfast.”

“At least you got the apartment?”

“Shut up, Edmure.”

* * *

Brienne reached up and grabbed the book from the tallest shelf, “Here you are, Roslin.”

“Oh thank you!” Roslin smiled prettily, grabbing the book, “Smart Women, Foolish Choices,” out of Brienne’s hand, “Thank goodness you’re so tall. I hate asking the shop people for help. Especially with a book like this.”

“Do you think the book will help?” Brienne asked, skeptical. Roslin had gone through dozens of books that were supposed to help her stop the affair and yet nothing changed.

“I read a great review of it in the New York Post,” Roslin chimed, walking away from the aisle, “It should stop me from doing stupid things like what I did this morning.”

Brienne narrowed her eyes at the back of Roslin’s petite figure, “What did you do this morning?”

Roslin turned around and gave Brienne a rather embarrassed smile, “Um, well I looked through his briefcase.”

Brienne groaned, “Why do you do these things, Roslin?”

Her friend ignored her, “I saw his credit card bill… he bought his wife a negligee. It cost him over one hundred dollars.”

“He’s not going to leave her, Roslin,” Brienne said, exasperated. She wanted to shake Roslin until she understood.

Roslin’s eyes watered, “I know, I know.” She inhaled and exhaled shakily, before turning away from Brienne, suddenly stilling, “Brienne, I think there’s someone staring at you.”

“That happens all the time, Roslin.”

“No, I mean he looks like he recognizes you. He’s in Personal Growth… do you recognize him?”

Brienne twisted her head to see whom Roslin was talking about, “Oh, I do know him,” she realized with surprise.

Jaime Lannister. He would be staring at her. He was probably trying to remember who she was.

“He’s pretty cute,” Roslin said, marching back over to Brienne, while tossing her brown hair over her shoulder to sneak looks at Jaime.

“He’s married.”

Roslin sighed, “Are you sure?”

“The last time I saw him, he was getting married.”

“When was that?”

“Five or six years ago. And before you get any ideas, he’s obnoxious and arrogant.”

“It was five or six years ago- he might not be married anymore and who’s to say that he’s still obnoxious. Remember Pride and Prejudice? They misjudged each other and then fell hopelessly in love,” Roslin beamed.

“Meh. He doesn’t even remember me when we run into each other-”

A masculine voice interrupted her diatribe, “Brienne Tarth,” Jaime Lannister said, warmly smiling.

“Oh, hello, Jaime.”

“I knew it was you,” his green eyes sparkled in the fluorescent light with something akin to humor. She wondered if she was going to finish his thought, which obviously had to end in something like ‘there’s no other woman as tall and ugly as you after all’ but he didn’t.

Instead he kept smiling, “Um, this is my friend, Roslin,” Brienne pointed next to her, before being startled by the realization that Roslin had walked away.

Traitor.

“Was Roslin, I mean,” she frowned.

“How are you? Still with Hyle?”

“No, we broke up not too long ago,” Brienne reluctantly revealed. But the surprise in his eyes made her feel better.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s… fine. How’s married life?”

His smile became more forced, although Brienne suspected others might not have noticed, it was such a tiny difference, “We’re in the middle of a divorce, so not exactly wedded bliss.”

“Oh no,” Brienne uttered, surprised by how truly regretful she was, “That’s terrible. I’m sorry.”

He looked oddly comforted by her words, “Yeah, it happened a few weeks ago.”

“Same with me and Hyle.”

Jaime looked at her for a moment, although it was long enough to make Brienne feel self-conscious, “Do you want to grab coffee?”

Brienne looked around, discreetly, for Roslin and saw that she was nowhere in the bookstore, and shrugged, “Why not?”

* * *

She looked different.

Better.

Her hair was cut short, curling slightly around her earlobes, and it somehow drew more attention to her eyes. They looked like sapphires, glowing and radiant.

But she was still a rather ugly wench, despite her blue eyes.

They were sitting in a coffee shop together, it was rather empty, which was fortunate considering he had a feeling that they were both going to spill their guts to each other despite being near-strangers. But maybe that was what they needed. To have someone listen and understand instead of these shitty platitudes that their friends kept giving them.

“We were happy, or so I thought. But, things changed. Or I thought they changed, I’m not even sure…” she trailed off and stared into her coffee.

It was plain black, with only a lump of sugar to sweeten it.

Jaime’s cup was so full of sweeteners and sugars that it barely tasted like coffee anymore.

“So what exactly happened?” he asked, after sipping his sugary drink.

“I was a joke to him. I always knew that, he never really took me completely seriously. Well, he did and he didn’t. He knew I was serious and devoted to my work, but all he could think about was his own work and how I made him look when I went with him to work events. But that didn’t bother me. I loved him. It should have bothered me, maybe, but it didn’t. And I was happy with him. One part of our relationship that was great was that neither of us felt like getting married yet. It was nice to have that agreement because so many couples rush into marriage and I didn’t want my career and my life as I knew it to end in a wedding dress holding a baby.”

Jaime thought of Cersei, “I know what you mean, I think.” She never wanted a baby or a wedding dress. Or maybe she did, just not with him. He wasn’t the best, or so she said in the divorce court. He wouldn’t have been able to provide for children the way she wanted him to.

He was suddenly getting a headache.

Brienne shook her head, causing the light curls at the ends of her hair to shake, “Also, I was a virgin until I met Hyle.”

Jaime smiled, “Took you that long?”

She blushed, “Yes, it did. And so I wasn’t willing on giving it up just yet, for a marriage and a baby. So many of our married friends never had sex after they got married and had kids. My friend, Dany, is possibly the only woman I know who has the energy for it, all my other friends just moan and groan about their lackluster sex lives. And after this next child, I’m sure even Dany will feel too tired to have sex.”

“So you guys agreed to postpone marriage.”

“Yes. And it was wonderful at first, because I felt relieved. There was no pressure. It was just me and Hyle.”

“Having sex.”

She rolled her eyes instead of blushing as she might have done years before, “Yes, having sex. But then, not too long ago, I watched Rhaego, Dany’s son, and took him out to the park.  I took him on one of those carriage rides, and he pretended he was a prince greeting his people. He’s only 3 or so, but he’s so smart, and I just knew, watching him, while he smiled and waved and bowed at the people on the street, that I wanted a child. I wanted to be a part of a family. I thought of my father and how happy he’d be with a grandchild, and I thought of how wonderful a child of Hyle’s and mine would be, and how smart our kid would be and I started crying right there in the carriage.”

“What did Rhaego think of that?”

“Nothing, he didn’t see, I cried quietly and was able to wipe my face before he saw me. He was too busy greeting his fans,” she smiled a little, before sobering up, “I went back home right after and told Hyle what I wanted. That I wanted to marry him and I wanted to be a family and he said he didn’t want that, not right now. So we broke up. And I’m over it. I know I did the right thing,” she said forcefully.

“You sound better than me,” Jaime declared.

“Yeah.”

“But not much better,” he amended with a mischievous smile and for a second he winced in preparation for a slap, she was a strong woman after all.

But instead, she laughed so hard that her hot coffee went up her nose.

* * *

Brienne couldn’t believe she had been hanging out with Jaime Lannister all afternoon.

Now they were walking the trail through Central Park, just walking and talking as if she did this with him every day.

Life was strange.

“I did get the apartment.”

“Why does everyone act like that’s a big upside? I got the apartment too; it’s not making my issues go away. And it’s not even that hard to find an apartment.”

“I suppose so.”

They were both quiet for a moment, still walking along the path. Brienne noticed that the leaves were changing color and smiled.

“This has actually been nice,” she muttered.

Jaime’s smirk turned into a smile, “Really? I thought you hated me,” he teased.

“I did hate you. I didn’t want to sleep with you and you acted like I was the crazy one when you were dating my friend,” she pointed out with a scowl. 

“Can I apologize now?” he asked, looking almost sincere.

Brienne sighed, although she was actually rather pleased, “Only if you mean it.”

“I vow that I mean this apology. Brienne, I’m sorry I’m an ass, especially that I was an ass to you on that long drive,” his eyes crinkled with amusement, but his voice was soft enough for Brienne to hear the earnestness in his apology.

“Um, all right, apology accepted.”

“We should get drinks together, to celebrate the end of a long-standing feud.”

Brienne bit her lip, “Are we becoming friends?”

“Yes,” Jaime stated, not leaving any room for argument, “I think I need a woman friend who I won’t sleep with.”

She felt oddly stung by the remark but nodded, “I suppose we should go grab some drinks then.”

Jaime revealed all of his teeth in a large grin, “After you, m’lady.”

A few leaves fell onto the path that lay in front of them.

The seasons were changing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not sure when I'll be posting the next chapter as I'd like to be be finished writing (although not editing!) the story before I post it, but we'll see what happens! I'm hoping that I'll be posting it within the week! Anyways thank you all for reading and I hope you liked the latest chapter and I love reading your reviews so thank you for that too! :)


	4. I'll Have What She's Having

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter where Brienne fakes an orgasm in a deli.

_A young couple sits on the loveseat together, the husband looking quite amused while the young woman has a scowl on her face._

_They sit together in silence until the petite woman speaks, annoyed, “Fine. We met like this. Gendry’s father and my father are friends, but Gendry didn’t know his dad until later. But eventually they met. And then we met.” She turned to her husband, “Happy?”_

_Gendry kept smiling a closed mouth smile, while his wife huffed, “Then we got along really well. But he was a bull-headed boy. Still is.”_

_“And you’re a wild girl, Arya, always have been, always will be.”_

_“Damn straight," she stated, unwilling to smile._

_“And somehow we fell in love.”_

_Arya’s eyes softened, although she punched her husband in the arm, “What do you mean somehow?” she demanded._

_“Considering how stubborn we both are, you have to admit it is a miracle.”_

_Arya smiled, “Yeah, I guess so.”_

_The scene ends with Gendry leaning over and wrapping his right arm around her petite shoulder and grinning._

* * *

  **Chapter Four - I'll Have What She's Having**  


Brienne was swaddled in her blankets. It was November and winter was definitely coming. This was indicated to her every time she turned on the television and saw the dropping temperatures, and every night when she added another blanket onto her bed.

She had about five blankets on. Despite living in Chicago during college and living in New York for ten years after that, her body never adjusted leaving the coastal south.

And apparently it was going to start snowing this weekend if what the weatherman on the television said was correct. Brienne put her head under the covers and groaned.

It was nice and warm under her blankets and the weatherman’s voice was muffled so much that she couldn’t hear what other doom he was predicting for her.

But she could hear the telephone ring.

With a lot of effort, she pushed herself out from under the covers, and grabbed the phone, “Hello,” she grunted.

“Hello to you too, wench,” Jaime Lannister’s cheery voice rang out and Brienne winced.

“It’s 11 o’clock at night. Why are you calling me?” Brienne asked.

“As if you weren’t still up watching the weather. I know you, Tarth. Now, go to channel 4, they’re showing Casablanca. It’s the last fifteen minutes.”

Brienne rolled her eyes but did what he said. She liked Casablanca too much to miss out on it.

“This is the best part of the movie anyways,” Jaime said, before loudly munching on something. She held the phone away from her ear for a moment until she heard him speaking again.

“So would you still go with the husband or would you stay with Bogey?”

“What do you mean still? I’ve always picked Bogart,” Brienne replied, staring at the TV screen. Bogey was convincing Ingrid Bergman to leave without him,  ** _‘_** ** _Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.’_**

“No, you haven’t. When we drove to New York, I distinctly remember you telling me that you picked the other guy.”

Brienne frowned, “No way.”

Jaime’s easy laugh flowed into her ear like music, “Sure.”

She decided to change the subject before he decided to keep laughing at her, “Are you sleeping all right?”

“Never better.”

“Jaime,” Brienne warned as if she was speaking to Rhaego about kicking the furniture. But Jaime wasn’t too different from a small child…

“Fine, everything is awful, are you happy, wench? I can’t live without Cersei next to me. Every time I left for a stupid business trip and had to stay in a hotel without her I could barely sleep when we were together. And now, knowing that she’ll never be back in my bed… well let’s just say I’m watching a lot of TV.”

“How many hours are you sleeping then?”

“Eh… about three," he admitted.

“That’s terrible,” Brienne admonished. She could almost imagine his grin at her words but still felt like she had to remind him that he should get his rest, “You need more sleep than that.”

“Probably. How about you?”

“This is the latest I’ve stayed up in weeks,” she confessed, before pulling her blanket a little higher, “I’ve been normally falling asleep before 9 every night. I haven’t done that in years.”

“Sounds like you’re in the same place I am.”

“I’m not like you.”

All the joy left his voice, “There’s no one like me.”

Brienne grasped the phone a little tighter in her hand and was trying to formulate a response before Jaime’s voice launched at her again.

“Are you sleeping on the both sides of the bed at least?” he demanded, his humor present again.

Brienne sighed, “I’m a big woman, it’s kind of uncomfortable if I don’t.”

“How big is your bed anyways? If both you and Hyle were able to fit on it?”

“A King, but it barely fit the two of us comfortably.”

“Huh. Cersei was like a slimmer, female version of myself, even around the same height so it wasn’t too uncomfortable for us in our Queen. Not that it matters now. I can barely look at her side of the bed let alone touch it.”

“You must miss her a lot.”

Jaime sighed, “I do. I hate that I do but I do. I’ve known her for so long, it’s just strange to be without her. We were a part of each other.”

Hyle’s face floated in Brienne’s mind, “I don’t miss him,” she lied.

“Wow. Really? Was he really that much of an ass?”

“No, nothing like that, I just don’t miss him.”

“Hm,” Jaime’s voice was inquisitive but he didn’t say anything else.

“Last scene.”

Jaime spoke over the film, “Ingrid Bergman is so attractive. And low-maintenance. Cersei is attractive and high-maintenance,” he said quietly, “the highest of them all, probably.”

“What about me?” Brienne asked, unwillingly curious.

“Low-maintenance,” he responded without even a second’s hesitation, “Not even a question.”

“Is this a good thing?”

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“We’re missing the movie,” Brienne pointed out, shifting in her bed so that the covers covered her shoulder blades. She suddenly felt cold.

“C’mon you know the line,” Jaime laughed, and then spoke again, right over Bogey, “ _’Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’_ ”

Brienne turned off the TV, “I think I should go to sleep now, Jaime.”

“Yeah, all right. I’ll just stay up watching cartoons. I wonder if the coyote will ever catch the roadrunner.”

Brienne smiled, easily imagining Jaime lounging around in his bed, golden hair tousled as he stared, unblinking, at the television screen, “Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Brienne.”

* * *

Jaime ran.

But Brienne was faster.

“Damn it, wench,” he coughed, feeling as if his throat was filled with blood. He could practically taste the metallic tinge on his tongue. This is why he hated running in winter, “I am never racing you again.” He stopped in the middle of the pathway in Central Park, trying not to hack out his lungs.

He was so out of shape.

Brienne, who had been a few meters ahead of him, jogged back to him, looking immensely proud of herself for beating him.

“Stop smiling,” Jaime ordered, bending over to catch his breath.

Brienne’s tiny smile disappeared, “Why?” she demanded.

Jaime laughed, “It makes you look like me,” and Brienne feigned a kick to his legs that he didn’t even bother pretending to dodge.

She watched him cough and he felt self-conscious suddenly. No one had seen him this vulnerable since childhood when he was just learning how to throw footballs and run around bases and swim against the current.

And now he could barely run three miles.

Cersei hated it when he went on runs in the mornings. She complained about how they never had morning sex when he left. So he stopped.

And they still never had morning sex.

Jaime wondered if Brienne had ever woken up in Hyle’s arms with the urge to fuck. He glanced at her. She was still staring at him, her grin slowly returning, her blonde bangs wet against her forehead, and he could see the armpit stains on her long-sleeve shirt.

There was no way she’d fuck Hyle before sundown, Jaime decided, avoiding her sapphire eyes as he stretched his arms, reaching for the sky.

“So do you want to just go on a walk now?” Brienne asked, completely avoiding mentioning how the two of them were supposed to run five miles together, and instead barely ran two and a half.

Jaime nodded, “Sure that sounds good.”

And off they went.

“So I should tell you about this dream I had,” Jaime said, eager to end the silence that had descended upon them.

Brienne scrunched up her nose, and she almost looked cute, Jaime thought, “Do I really want to know?” she asked.

“No, but I’m going to tell you anyways,” Jaime grinned, “It started off with me having sex with someone, I don’t know who, it was just some blonde girl, but then I’m being judged on my performance by my father, Cersei, and my brother, Tyrion. God, you should really meet Tyrion, he’d love you, but Tyrion gives me a 9.8 but Cersei gives me a .7 and my father gives me a 4. What the hell does that mean?”

The look she threw him was pity and he suddenly regretted telling her the story, “That you desire their approval?” she said, hesitating a bit.

Jaime grunted, unwilling to concede to something as outlandish as that, “Fuck that. Tell me a good sex dream of yours.”

“No!” she said, turning completely red.

Jaime beamed, he loved making her blush, “Why not? We’ve talked about your real sex life, why is your dream sex so much different?”

“Because!”

“Because why?”

“Stop it,” she warned, stopping in her tracks.

He was enjoying this now, “Why? Is it someone I know that you think about sleeping with? Or are you a very dirty wench?”

She came closer to him, standing up straighter than usual, trying to tower over him, but he laughed in response, “C’mon Brienne, it can’t be as bad as my dream.”

Brienne harrumphed.

“I can tell you another one of my dirty dreams.”

“No thank you.”

“One time I dreamed of –“

“FINE,” she hissed, her face somehow turning even redder, “I’ll tell you a sex dream.”

Jaime shrugged and walked away from her, trying not to laugh, “Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, wench.”

“I am going to kill you,” Brienne whispered loud enough that he could still hear her.

Jaime laughed and ran as she started to chase him, ignoring his lungs.

He felt too alive to be bothered by such a petty thing as breathing.

* * *

Brienne adjusted her purse. Jaime was late.

She had discovered in the course of their friendship that Jaime was often late and she had a sneaking suspicion that he did it on purpose to bother her.

Mostly this was due to the fact that she felt like she was being watched every time he was late, as if he was waiting for the proper moment to come out of nowhere and announce himself with a lazy smile, his teeth shining brilliantly, and his green eyes twinkling.

He was too good-looking for his own good.

“Didn’t realize you’d still be waiting for me,” the devil himself said, flinging back his golden hair with a golden smile, appearing out of nowhere next to her.

She resisted the urge to punch his beautiful teeth out, “Of course I waited for you,” she said, clenching her jaw and her fists.

Jaime’s grin grew, “I’m glad I have such a loyal friend.”

Brienne grunted, and handed him his museum ticket.

“I still can’t believe we have to pay for museums. In Washington D.C., where my father lives, the museums are free,” Jaime said after a few minutes of touring the museum.

“It’s a donation,” Brienne begrudgingly retorted, as they walked into the Egyptian exhibit. She wasn’t too fond of the price tag attached to the donation either, but she still wanted to support the museum and she thought it was worth paying for to see all the culture and history present. 

“Aren’t donations for rich people? With all the fancy parties and champagne glasses and crap,” Jaime said, stopping by a set of Egyptian jewelry. It was enclosed in a glass case, and by the way he was looking at it, Brienne sensed Cersei was on his mind again.

So she continued the banter, “You are rich.” And he was, not that he acted or dressed like it. But he said enough that Brienne could tell he came from old money. 

He waved his hand at her, as if she was being silly, and turned away from the jewelry, “Semantics.”

“How rich are you anyways?” Brienne asked out of idle curiosity.

“I honestly have no idea. Tyrion is my accountant. He tells me what to do, how high to jump and so on, and I do it. Father wanted me to hire one of his goons but why should I do that when I have Tyrion?”

“How do you not know how much money you have, Jaime?”

Jaime shrugged, “Father makes me invest a lot, Tyrion manages my stocks though, and I don’t even know what I’m investing in at the moment. I have enough money to get divorced though and still live comfortably even with the alimony check I send Cersei every month. Plus, when my Papa Tywin dies, I’m supposedly getting the lion’s share of the inheritance.”

“He’s cutting out Cersei and Tyrion?”

“Cersei isn’t his true daughter and now that she divorced me, he considers her a lost cause much to her despair, I’m sure. She always loved him the most. And he’s hated Tyrion since the day he was born. Killing our mother and being a little person will do that.”

“So you get all the pressure and all the money.”

“Pretty much,” he sighed dramatically, before pointing at an Egyptian god, “Which one is this?”

“Why don’t you just read the caption?”

“That’s why you’re here.”

“It’s Ra.”

Jaime smirked, “I feel the urge to act like a cheerleader.”

At her unamused stare, he continued talking. "You know... ra-ra-ra," he smirked, almost giggling while lightly jumping and down. 

Brienne groaned, “Please don’t. We’ll get cursed by a mummy or something knowing my luck.”

He stopped jumping, “Ah, Brienne, you have to lighten up. Which actually reminds me, I wanted to see that new movie, want to go?”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

Brienne looked away from Jaime, “I - uh, actually can’t tonight.”

“Why not? Going to look for some booty?” Jaime laughed.

“I’m going on a date,” she blushed.

She could hear the surprise in his voice, “Ah wow, that’s great… for you.”

“You think so?” she asked, turning back towards him, fingering the straps on her purse.

“Yeah,” he said, his green eyes meeting her blue ones, “It really is.”

“You should go on a date too.”

“No,” he said, much too quickly.

Brienne frowned, “You have to get back out there, Jaime. For your own good.”

“No, I really have had enough of it to last me a lifetime. I’ve only been in love with Cersei and I’ll only be in love with her. I’ll just ruin some girl’s night,” he then took a second glance at Brienne and scanned her body. She fidgeted under his gaze.

“Are you going to wear that?” he demanded.

“Yes?” she said hesitantly, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Brienne was wearing a dark blazer with a pretty green blouse and high-waisted jeans. She always thought they were some of the nicest clothes she had. 

“You should wear blue,” he ordered, “And some heels.”

Brienne was aghast, “Heels? I’m already a giant!”

“Own it. One thing I’ve learned from living with Cersei is to embrace your so-called flaws. Flats and sandals and sneakers are good for hanging out with a friend like me, but on a date you need to show off those legs. You have great legs,” he said, grinning like a maniac.

“Oh, shut up,” Brienne said, flustered, “And why blue?”

“Your eyes,” he shrugged, “They’re your best feature. Blue will bring them out.”

Brienne was surprised, “Oh.”

Jaime whistled and walked past her, “Let’s go to the Medieval Exhibit, I want to see the weapons.”

“Um, sure,” Brienne said, blinking at his back.

The color blue and heels. She could do that.

Maybe.

* * *

“It was the worst night of my life,” Brienne cried into her plate of spaghetti.

Jaime snorted, “Mine will beat yours,” he said, before diving his fork into her food.

The wench glared at him, “He insulted me to my face multiple times, leered at the waitress, and then still tried to grab my breasts several times during dinner. AND-“ she added for emphasis, “he threw up in my lap in the cab ride home.”

“Gross,” he replied, watching her place her straw-colored head into her massive hands and groan with enthusiasm.

He would have felt more sorry for her if he hadn’t just had the shittiest night of his life.

“Mine was still worse, I’ll bet you ten dollars on it.”

“Five.”

“Aha, so you have no confidence in your story.”

“Five dollars is more than enough, I’m a saver not a gambler,” Brienne mumbled into her hands.

“Fine, I’ll take it. Either way I win money,” he said with an easy smile gliding across his features.

She propped her head up and stared at him from across his dining room table. It was nice to have company for once. The only person other than himself that was usually around here was Tyrion when he decided to show up randomly and on even rarer occasions Edmure blessed Jaime’s household with his presence.

Brienne had only been in his apartment twice other than tonight, but considering they only reconnected about two months ago, it was still a stronger rate than his other friends. But he did bribe her with spaghetti so he wasn’t sure if tonight even counted. Food makes people do strange things.

_As does love,_ a voice that sounded much too close to Cersei’s taunted him. Love. He did so many despicable things for Cersei under the guise of love and what did he have for it.

He had Brienne, the wench sitting at his dining room table. He had the rest of the room that was now bare of paintings and knick-knacks since Cersei took everything worth taking. Not that he fought her on it. He stopped caring long before that point in the divorce proceedings.

“Jaime, are you going to tell me the story or keep staring at me like I’m the devil?” Brienne sighed out, her long arms stretching over her head and her wide chest heaving due to her heavy sighs. He had a hard time not staring then, as it showed off her muscular figure perfectly.

But he shook it off, “Well, it began well enough. She was dark haired, which isn’t my taste, but I can deal with it-”

Brienne snorted but he ignored her, “She was nice enough, a chiropractor or something, I wasn’t paying too much attention, those details don’t really matter until you really know them, and then we got to our restaurant and I kept cracking jokes like I do-“

“Oh god, Jaime, you didn’t.”

He scoffed, “What do you mean I didn’t? Of course I did.”

Brienne placed a hand on her forehead as if she was suddenly gaining a massive headache.

“Anyways, she didn’t laugh at any of them. She looked more startled than anything which was odd because none of them were that startling-“

“Do I even want to ask?” Brienne interrupted.

“But I stopped because she did look uncomfortable and I’m not a monster, not a complete one anyways, stop glaring at me, Brienne, and then I talk to her about where she went to school and she went to NYU. And that made me think of Cersei.”

“Did she go to NYU?”

“No, she went to Columbia University but they’re both here in New York.”

Brienne’s blue eyes looked sad, as if she was staring at a small wounded animal. He was a little amused, “It might take us a long time to find someone we like going out with. Perhaps even longer before we sleep with someone,” she said, kindly.

“I had sex with her, actually.”

“What?”

He shrugged at her wide eyes, “It wasn’t terrible. Do you want some dessert?”

Brienne stuttered, “No-no I’m goo-good.”

He paused before shrugging and grabbing himself a cookie from his Cookie Monster cookie jar, the only thing Cersei didn’t take from him in this room, “Your loss.”

* * *

“So you’re into this woman,” Edmure asked him, before swinging his bat hard . . . and missing the ball completely. He swore.

Jaime snickered, “I don’t think you should be swearing with so many kids about,” he pointed out.

“Like they haven’t heard or said worse,” Edmure said, before swinging and missing again. He swore louder.

“And, no, to answer your question from before, I’m not into her. We’re friends.”

“But you’re attracted to her?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jaime stated, leaning against the wire fence. He was glad he wasn’t the one in the batting cage. It was more amusing to watch Edmure miss than to swing at the ball.

“I don’t understand this at all,” Edmure shook his head, before the ball launched past his head.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why don’t you just go out with her?”

“Eh,” Jaime grunted, unwilling to elaborate.

“You’re afraid of letting yourself be happy, Jaime,” Edmure said, swinging and hitting the ball. He beamed and then swore loudly.

“Jesus, Edmure.”

“He’s got nothing to do with it. Seriously, what’s up with you and this girl?”

“This is the only time in my life I’ve been friends with a girl, can’t you just let me have this?” Jaime asked.

Edmure shook his head and swung the bat again, knocking the ball to the side of the cage, “What do you even get out of it?”

“Friendship. You know like what we have.”

“We have a bitter rivalry.”

“Sure we do. It’s not like we’re about to go buy each other beers in ten minutes after you’re done playing with balls.”

“Shut up, Jaime,” Edmure grunted as he hit another ball.

“Anyways, I can talk to her about things, and get a different perspective.”

“How is that different than having another male friend?

“I get a woman’s point of view, _pretty sure_ that’s how it works. Like I told her about this one date I had, where I brought a woman to such a level of ecstasy I made her meow.”

Edmure stopped swinging, and faced Jaime, “You did what?”

Jaime smirked, “I made her meow.”

Edmure looked stunned, “How?”

“Do you really need me to explain sex to you, Edmure?” Jaime clucked.

Edmure just continued staring, not even blinking when the ball whizzed past him and hit the fence that Jaime was leaning on, “You made her meow?”

Ignoring him, Jaime continued, “That’s the point though, I can tell Brienne about this, and I don’t lie to her because I’m not trying to sleep with her. I’m just me.”

Saying this seemed to break the meowing spell over Edmure, who ran his hand over his beard, and said, “There’s definitely no chance of you sleeping with her then, if she knows what you’re really like.”

Jaime forced a laugh, “You’re probably right.”

“Damn straight,” Edmure muttered, before turning himself back around and swinging.

He missed.

And swore once again.

* * *

Brienne tore into her pastrami sandwich with satisfaction. The week before had been hell at her job, the deadlines were drowning her and it almost felt like she was never going to make it to the weekend.

Saturday.

Beautiful Saturday.

Jaime wrinkled his nose at her, as if he was perturbed by how much she was enjoying her sandwich. It made her smile a little.

But only a little.

The delicatessen they were in was larger than the one she usually went to, but it was apparently Jaime’s favorite in the whole city, and it was perfectly in the middle distance-wise between their two apartments so it was a good meeting spot for discussing their busy lives.

And by discussing, it was usually more Brienne listening to Jaime prattle on about some date he slept with and watching him sigh about Cersei.

Not that she minded, really. He was a good friend and she liked to listen to his stories.

Although, if she had to hear about his sex life one more time she was going to kick him hard in the shins.

“So you just leave these women right after you sleep with them?” Brienne asked after she swallowed a bite of her sandwich.

Jaime’s green eyes twinkled, “Of course. Do your dates actually stay with you?” he teased.

“No one has stayed over yet, you know that,” she admonished, grateful that she wasn’t turning red like she sometimes did. Perhaps she was finally becoming used to his teasing. She took another bite of her sandwich and swallowed, trying to imagine Jaime jumping out of bed as soon as he stopped having sex, “I’m just having a hard time imagining you leaving right away.”

“I say that I have an early meeting. I am a very busy man after all,” he winked before stealing a potato chip off her plate.

Brienne didn’t mind, she wasn’t planning on eating them anyways, “You’re not that important. Aren’t you still a junior associate?” She knew this was more due to his lack of interest and ambition in being a lawyer than Jaime’s actual work ethic. Jaime, if he ever admitted it to himself, hated being a lawyer and only did it for Cersei. Not even his father wanted him to stay a lawyer after law school. Tywin wanted Jaime to go down to Washington and work with his lobbyist firm.

But Jaime didn’t. Instead, he did what Cersei said. 

“Excuse you, I’m a senior associate who pretty much does nothing,” he said, placing his hand on his chest in mock-resentment, before stealing another one of her chips. She scowled and then placed them all on his plate. He grinned.

“You’re a terrible human being, I hope you know that.”

“What for stealing your chips? That’s nothing. I’ve done much worse.”

“I know. You sleep with women and then ditch them in their beds.”

He raised an eyebrow, “That’s not that bad. Like I’ve said, I’ve done worse.”

“How is it not that bad?” Brienne demanded.

“Trust me, Brienne, no one is complaining. And I mean no one,” Jaime winked.

He was insufferable, “I am so glad I never ever got involved with you,” Brienne declared, trying to supress the mental thought that he'd never want to be with someone like _her_ anyways.

Jaime’s grin dropped, and Brienne continued to speak, only a little flustered, “I would have been some other floozy to leave so you can go take your cat to the vet or something and I wouldn’t even know that you don’t have a cat.”

“Are you actually mad at me? For sleeping with women and leaving them?” Jaime looked genuinely surprised and somehow this made Brienne angrier, “Over this? Out of all the stupid things I do?”

“You’re terrible to women.”

“On the contrary, my dear wench, I give them the best time of their lives.”

Brienne snorted and took a big bite of her pastrami sandwich. Better to stuff her face than to say something that she would regret.

“Trust me, Brienne. No one is complaining when I don’t call them again. They know what it is. It’s a good time.”

“And you think this because?” she said, after swallowing her bite of sandwich.

Jaime sighed and started speaking slowly and quietly, as if he was talking to a small child, “They orgasm, Brienne. You do know what orgasming is, don’t you?”

A smile danced across Brienne’s face, she suddenly felt triumphant, “How do you know they mean it?”

Jaime’s eyes flickered with something Brienne couldn’t place, “Not everyone is as bad at sex as Hyle, Brienne.”

“Stop it,” Brienne hissed, suddenly angry again, “every woman I know has faked orgasm. Even Dany whose sex life is something out of an erotic romance novel. Every woman does it at some point.”

“Not with me.”

“Sure, they don’t,” Brienne scoffed.

“I would know the difference,” he declared stubbornly, ignoring his plate of food to gaze at Brienne.

A devilish idea sprouted in Brienne’s mind. She looked around, casually, to make sure there were no children in the area, and was grateful and somewhat terrified to see only adults.

She could do this.

She had done it before.

Just never in a public restaurant.

Or anywhere public at all… but she had done it before. Multiple times with Hyle.

She could do it.

She stared at Jaime, concentrating on his nose, and avoiding his sparkling green eyes, and parted her lips lightly.

“Oh,” Brienne moaned, “Ohh.”

Jaime spoke, his golden brows raised in concern, “Brienne, are you all right?”

Ignoring him, she continued to moan, “Oh God,” she added for emphasis, a little louder. She fluttered her eyelashes and then tangled her hand in her short hair, wishing for the first time in a while that it was longer, “Yes, please, oh god, oh my god, yes, yes, YES,” she half-yelled, letting go of her hair, and gripping the table as if she was holding on to it for dear life, “OH GOD, YES, YES, YES.”

Brienne could feel the stares of the other patrons and she slowly let go of the table, aware that she was being stared at.

But she forced an innocent smile in Jaime’s direction before taking another bite of her sandwich.

He looked almost proud of her and also, somehow, completely annoyed.

 “I’ll have what she’s having,” said an elderly lady, two tables away from them.

The realization of what Brienne had just done dawned on her, and she abruptly started choking, and Jaime almost fell on the floor laughing at her predicament.

Somehow Brienne was able to stop and she glared at Jaime, who kept laughing.

“You deserve it,” he declared, entirely unsympathetic.

Her throat was too raw from coughing up her sandwich to reply so Brienne settled for a dirty glower, which Jaime chuckled at.

“I do have to admit that I would have a hard time telling the difference though, if that takes the edge off your embarrassment,” he admitted with a wry smile, before slurping his soft drink with a straw.

She frowned, unable to discern if he was teasing her, “It does.”

“Plus, I can’t believe you of all people faked an orgasm in a deli. It’s just so wonderful. And out of character.”

Brienne kicked him lightly in the shin, but his smile didn’t ebb, instead it grew, “Stop it, Jaime.”

“I wish I could fake an orgasm as well as you, Brienne, because believe me, some of these girls, I need to, if you know what I’m saying.”

“I will kill you.”

He smiled cheerily at her fierce expression, “I don’t doubt that one bit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that the old lady is Olenna Tyrell, fyi.  
> And thank you all again for the lovely reviews and kudos, I'm so glad this story is having such a positive reaction. The next chapter might take a bit longer to release than this one, but it should still be out relatively soon!  
> I hope you all liked this chapter!


	5. How Edmure Met Roslin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime's and Brienne's attempts at matchmaking leave much to be desired.

_Another couple sits on the loveseat, the redheaded woman slouched so far down she looked as if she had never sat up straight before, while the man next to her wasn't even slightly hunched, his back straight as a board, his face revealing none of his thoughts._

_The redhead spoke first, after glancing at her husband, “He was a terrible lay,” she said, aiming to provoke, her teeth poking out of her closed smile. Her eyes twinkled._

_He laughed outright, and all the darkness in his eyes cleared, “They asked how we met, not about how we fucked.”_

_“Well, we laid down together didn’t we? You were a cop and I was in trouble for stealing, and you got separated from your crowd and I got separated from mine and we were stuck in the god-blessed wild and we laid down together and slept, well you wanted to sleep, I wanted to fu-“_

_“Ygritte,” he warned, although a smile was still on his face and his eyes were soft._

_“Well, we belonged to each other after surviving the wilderness, it helped that he didn’t out me to his cop buddies… but we’ve stayed together ever since,” she said, laughing, “And he wasn’t a bad lay when we finally did fu-“_

_“I knew I loved you from the first moment, Ygritte,” he interrupted her._

_“You know nothing, Jon Snow,” Ygritte said with utmost seriousness. Jon Snow nodded with a small, sad smile as if he had heard it a million times before and would hear it a million times again._

* * *

 

 

**Chapter Five - How Edmure Met Roslin**

“You did what, Roslin?!”

“I sent flowers to myself, you know how they do it in the movies, I thought… well I thought it’d make him jealous. I know it’s stupid.”

Brienne stared at her friend. Roslin was one of the prettiest and kindest women Brienne had ever met… yet she still pulled the stupidest stunts for a married man who treated sweet, beautiful Roslin like absolute crap.

“Anyways, it didn’t matter,” Roslin continued, tugging on her scarf, “he never even showed up. He was with his wife. He’s never going to leave her.”

Brienne didn’t even know what to say to that obvious statement, so instead she nodded, and zipped up her coat more. It was quite chilly outside.

“I’m sorry to whine about this though, Brienne. I appreciate that you’re setting me up with your friend, but is this really a good idea?”

“You and Jaime are two of my best friends, and if you guys end up together, that means I’d be able to see you both. Otherwise, it’d be more like how it is with my old friends who are all married, who I’m lucky to see once a year,” Brienne pointed out, as they walked across the street together.

Roslin digested this, “If you’re sure…”

“Well… I’m not sure that you’ll like each other, but I’m hoping that you will,” Brienne stated matter-of-factly.

Roslin frowned but didn’t voice her thought, which Brienne was grateful for. Brienne was nervous enough about this double date without Roslin’s worries added to her burden. It took Brienne hours to decide on an appropriate outfit, terrified that Jaime or his friend would laugh at her attempt, until she remembered earlier advice Jaime gave her about date outfits, and she now wore a blue cashmere sweater and slacks. She was not going to wear heels when it was icy out though, she didn’t have a death wish. Nor did she particularly want to tower even more over poor Roslin who was quite petite even with her heels on.

“That’s the restaurant, right?” Roslin asked, pointing at a building less than a block away from them.

Brienne squinted and then smiled with relief, “Yes, it is.”

“Thank goodness because I’m starving,” Roslin laughed.

* * *

“So where are the ladies of tonight?” Edmure grumbled, glancing down at his watch. He was seated diagonal from Jaime at their circular table that was already covered with the proper cutlery. Cersei would be so delighted.

“Edmure, they’re not even late yet. We arrived fifteen minutes early, we’re lucky the restaurant even seated us.”

“I hate you for talking me into this.”

“I thought you were about to say you hate yourself, which I was going to sympathize with because I also hate you.”

“Very funny, Lannister, but you know how much I hate dating. And the whole idea of love is just -“ he stumbled for a bit, and Jaime wondered what Edmure was thinking of, before Edmure continued, a dash of red on his cheeks that wasn’t covered up by his beard, “Anyways, why aren’t you taking her out if you like her so much?”

“We’ve covered this. Brienne and I are just friends.”

“So she’s ugly.”

Jaime wanted to laugh, but held it in, “She’s not conventionally attractive…”

“Oh God, she is ugly. You sent me up with an ugly woman. I should kill you.”

“She’s great though, I promise you. And she has a killer set of legs and sapphire eyes.”

“I don’t even like blue eyes,” Edmure groused.

Jaime was debating about kicking Edmure under the table but noticed Brienne had entered the restaurant. It was hard not to notice her unless you weren’t facing her like Edmure, “Shut up now, Edmure, the ladies have shown up.”

Edmure twisted his neck around, “Oh wow, now _she_ is pretty.”

He was looking at the smaller girl next to Brienne who reminded Jaime of a mouse, a very pretty mouse with dark, curly hair and a soft smile, who altogether was very boring looking, in his opinion. He liked women who roared instead of squeaked.

“That’s Roslin, she’s my date.”

“Damn it, Jaime.”

“Shh,” Jaime warned as Brienne spotted him and waved hesitantly. The wench let go of her winter coat and he was surprised by how nice she looked in a simple sweater and slacks. Blue really did bring out her eyes.

The two women walked over to their table and the four of them exchanged awkward greetings. Jaime noticed how Edmure barely nodded at Brienne and how Brienne’s eyes were watching Roslin’s reactions more than her own date’s. So he put on a show for her.

“So, you’re the beautiful Roslin Frey that I’ve heard so much about,” Jaime smiled brightly in an attempt to show Brienne he wasn’t a total ass.

Roslin blinked, “Oh, um, thank you.” 

Jaime waited for more of a response and recieved none. He felt oddly bereft from the lack of attention _(she didn't even blush at his compliment)_ but that was soon relieved when the waiter came by to bring them water.

Brienne cleared her throat, “Um, Roslin, you and Jaime both are from Washington D.C.”

“Oh really? The actual city or the suburbs?” Roslin smiled politely, before dabbing her mouth with her napkin daintily.

“My family lived in Georgetown actually, near the university. You?”

“In Alexandria, near the water, quite close to the Woodrow Wilson Bridge,” she replied, looking nervous. 

“Ah," he said, trying to imagine living near the highway and failing to do so. The quiet settled in fast after that, with only the clinks of cutlery being moved around (by Edmure, mostly) extinguishing it.

Jaime could feel the awkwardness descending upon them and glanced at Brienne. It was obvious she could feel it too, her smile was too stiff to be natural.

“Um,” he said, reaching for straws, “Edmure, you and Brienne are both journalists.”

“Really? What do you write about?” Edmure asked, a slight hint of interest crossing his features underneath the mess he called a beard.

“I’m a sports journalist,” she stated, meeting Jaime's eyes before looking over at Edmure again.

“Oh.” Jaime was annoyed to see how unimpressed Edmure was with her occupation, “Hm.”

Roslin jumped in, her eyes glowing with adoration of her large, unattractive friend, “Brienne is a wonderful writer, she actually manages to get me into sports. Although, I mostly read the New York Post’s book reviews when I read the paper. Magazines are more in my field of interest, although Brienne’s written for those too.”

Brienne smiled slightly at her friend’s attempt at breaking the stubborn silence.

Jaime bit the inside of his mouth as he glanced down at his menu, trying to think of something to say, “Um, what are you guys going to get?”

“Food,” Edmure deadpanned.

Roslin giggled at the remark while Jaime rolled his eyes. 

“I think I’m going to get the grilled steak with chopped olives,” Brienne stated, ignoring Jaime's eyerolling, Roslin’s giggling, and Edmure’s comment.

“Brienne, you always pick the best item on the menu, I’m going to get the same as you,” Jaime declared, “Seriously, she picks the most filling thing on the menu and it’s always delicious.”

“That seems a bit much for me,” Roslin said, “I read the other day, in a magazine, that fresh caught fish was healthier and lighter than steak. It was a really good article about the politics of fishing and farming.”

Edmure stared at her, “I wrote that piece.”

“Really?”

Edmure nodded.

Jaime suddenly felt ill at ease, and shot Brienne a look. She shrugged, her blue eyes darkening when she noticed him staring.

“I… wow, this is so nerve-wracking. I’m so embarrassed,” Roslin blushed. 

Edmure smiled, almost gently, which perturbed Jaime down to his shaky, old bones, “You’re embarrassed? I’m embarrassed! I’ve never met someone who has practically quoted me back to me, especially someone who didn’t even realize it was me!”

Jaime sighed and wondered how many more ‘me’s” Edmure could fit into the conversation as the two lovebirds continued to chatter. He sensed Brienne’s gaze and tried to smile at her, noticing how sad her sapphire eyes looked. He exaggerated a heavy sigh and was tempted to pretend to hang himself with his napkin but Brienne’s frown was so firmly etched onto her face that he stopped himself.

This was going to be a long night, he surmised, watching Roslin and Edmure smile at each other.

A very, very long night.

* * *

“Brienne, could I talk to you a minute?” Roslin asked, after the two of them arrived at Brienne's home after their disastrous double blind date.

Almost sounds like a science experiment.

One that went horribly wrong.

Although… Brienne couldn’t bring herself to be angry about how that night turned out, as terribly boring as it was for her and Jaime, after all, Edmure and Roslin hit it off so well that it was kind of scary. So scary that Roslin was sitting at Brienne’s feet like a small child, idly brushing her long dark hair with a comb. Her small friend was staying the night at Brienne's. 

Roslin was so pretty and petite that it wasn’t a surprise to Brienne that Edmure was instantly attracted to her cute friend. Plus, kindness seeped out of Roslin’s pores, after all, it was her kind heart that often got her into trouble with men in the first place.

But Brienne trusted Jaime enough to believe that Edmure wouldn’t harm her friend.

“Would you mind if I called Edmure up tomorrow? Would that be weird for you?” Roslin interrupted Brienne’s lingering thoughts.

“No, no, it’s fine, Roslin. I didn’t find him very attractive honestly, and I’m sure he feels the same about me,” Brienne attempted to give a reassuring smile but Roslin’s mouth dropped in abject horror.

“Don’t say that! You’re beautiful.”

Brienne suddenly wished Jaime could appear in her room at this moment to say something truly horrible about her looks. Something about how big her nose was, or how uneven her lips were. Just something that was mean and honest. Brienne had hit that point in life where kind words did more harm to her self-esteem than the blatant truth.

In terms of taunts, Brienne the Beauty was much worse than Brienne the Plain. 

“No, it’s all right, Roslin. I think you should call him, but I’m pretty sure he’ll call you tomorrow.” Or perhaps even tonight, Brienne thought to herself, having a hard time imagining the eager man being patient enough to wait until tomorrow.

“Do you think Jaime gave Edmure my phone number?” Roslin asked, shooting up from her seat to stand up straight, a wide, happy grin appearing on her face, “You think he’d do that?”

“I’m sure he did. It was quite obvious that you two were taken with each other.” So obvious that the waiter mistook who was with who several times throughout the evening despite their seating arrangement.

“Oh, this is so lovely. I never thought I’d find someone that I’d actually like!” Roslin announced, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was imagining that Edmure was holding her in his muscular arms.

Although his weren’t as muscular as Jaime’s, Brienne remembered with some satisfaction.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Brienne said, honestly.

“Thank you for making me go,” Roslin smiled, still hugging herself, “I know I didn’t hit it off with Jaime… do you think he’ll be ok with me going out with Edmure?” Roslin asked. Roslin’s arms dropped and she started to bite her nails.

Brienne smiled a little. Jaime had a few words to say about Roslin when they were all walking together. As soon as Edmure and Roslin sneakily paired up to go window-shopping, Jaime stated his feelings towards her pretty friend, “Not my type. She’s too soft. Not sharp enough.”

“What does that even mean?” Brienne demanded, before adjusting her scarf around her neck.

He ignored her, “And she’s not even blonde you can do better than that, Brienne.”

“Next time I have a desperately single friend, I’ll make sure to dye her hair blonde.”

“It’s all I ask for,” Jaime smirked.

Brienne recalled how they watched their friends flirt together for a few minutes, until Jaime spoke again, “You’re a good friend, Brienne. Many women would be upset about… well being ditched for their friend.”

“After years of it happening the pain is more a minor irritation than anything. It’s as equally painful to listen to you, to be quite honest.”

Jaime laughed then, catching the attention of Edmure and Roslin who rejoined them. Not too long after that they went their separate ways, Edmure and Roslin exchanging smiles and looks during their goodbyes.

Looking at her friend in her tiny nightgown, Brienne shook herself out of her remembrances, “Jaime should be fine. He cares about his family and friend’s happiness more than his own… well, most of the time,” she admitted after a thought.

Roslin grabbed Brienne and held her tight, “Just thank you so much, Brienne, you’re my best friend.” Brienne hugged her back, feeling quite awkward as she did so due to the height difference. Plus, she was sitting on her bed, while Roslin was standing, and yet Roslin’s head was still somehow hitting Brienne’s breasts.

She hated being so monstrously tall. It was quite awkward.

_And quite lonely, too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished editing this a little earlier than I thought I would so you get this a little earlier than I planned! I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, it's much shorter than the other ones but I hope you liked it! The next one is pretty long so I hope that'll make up for it!  
> sidenote: I make Edmure talk about fish every chance I get and I will not apologize for that, haha.


	6. Let's Call the Whole Thing Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty long so I hope you enjoy the ride! Also, despite the summary, there is no smut here. Sorry for those who wanted it!

_The couple that sits on the couch are dark and beautiful, with almost matching smiles. They are sitting closer together than any of the other previous couples, as if they could not bear to not be touching._

_"I have to correct something before we get started with this... interview," the woman states, curling her lip slightly, as though she was amused. The man next to her chuckled and grabbed her thigh roughly, smiling almost roguishly._

_She places her own hand over his, her dark eyes flashing as she did so, "I know this interview is for married couples, and well, Oberyn and I are not married."_

_"No, Ellaria and I are not," he declares, squeezing her thigh with a laugh._

_Ellaria smirks,"We have been together for years, though and why would we ruin such a good thing with marriage? And before you go swinging facts at me, know that our sex life is very good and we are very happy just the way we are."_

_Oberyn winks at the camera, "We were even thinking about having sex on this couch during the interview, weren't we? Ellaria does love showing off-"_

_The camera shuts off quickly._

* * *

**  
Chapter Six - Let's Call the Whole Thing Off**

“Now this is the perfect gift!” Jaime crowed.

Brienne resisted the urge to smack him as the handsome blonde practically skipped over to the karaoke machine. It was enormously large and Brienne couldn’t imagine anyone but Jaime having any fun with it.

“You realize this is supposed to be a gift for Edmure and Roslin right? Not for you.”

“Of course I do, wench. Don’t insult me.”

She sighed and he smirked back at her, his teeth shining in the department store’s fluorescent lighting, “Now, come on, sing with me.”

Brienne felt a headache coming on, “No.”

“Fine. I’ll do it by myself,” he said, turning on the machine midway through so half his sentence was blasted by the speaker. Brienne winced as people throughout the store stopped and stared at the giantess and the handsome blonde man, who was beaming and singing along to… something.

“Is this the Sound of Music?” she asked after he sang a few bars off-key. At least there was something he wasn't good at, she winced.

“You don’t know your Rodgers and Hammerstein’s at all, do you?” Jaime tutted into the microphone. A broad smile was stuck on his face and she resisted the urge to smack it.

It was strange that a stupid machine like this made him so happy. Perhaps this would be a good gift for him later on. Christmas wasn’t too far away, really.

“Jaime,” Brienne warned as he sidled up next to her trying to hand her a microphone, “I am not singing.”

“Oh, come on, wench!” he half-sang while the back-up music played on, “It’ll be fun! You need to have fun, Brienne.”

She glowered at him and he laughed and spun around.

And then dropped his microphone on the floor. Brienne winced as the sound of the microphone hitting the floor whipped through the speakers, and picked it up gently before turning off the machine, “Jaime, what is the matter?”

“Cersei,” he whispered, his face turned away from Brienne facing another part of the store.

She must be there.

Brienne glanced over and noticed a beautiful blonde in a fashionable, red pencil skirt carrying a Chanel purse walking with a bearded man in an ill-fitting suit. From Jaime’s numerous descriptions of Cersei, Brienne was sure this was his step-sister slash ex-wife. This was Cersei Lannister.

And the woman was looking right back at Jaime.

Brienne wanted to grab Jaime and hold him, or even stand in front of him like a shield or armor. But she couldn’t move. She felt as if her boots were glued to the ugly, plastic flooring.

Cersei and the man sauntered over to them before Brienne recovered her courage to grab Jaime and flee, “Hello, Jaime,” Cersei purred, pushing back a golden lock with a perfectly manicured hand. Her nails were blood-red.

Brienne’s eyes flashed down to Jaime’s fists, which clenched as soon as Cersei spoke, “Cersei,” he said, with no trace of the warmth that he used when speaking to Brienne. If Brienne had never met him before that moment, she would have thought he was a man without humor.

“How are you, Jaime, dear?” Cersei asked, her green eyes flashing.

“Fine,” Jaime stated, stiffening his shoulders. The man next to Cersei smiled a little, but there was no goodness in it.

Brienne knew that Jaime and Cersei were step-siblings, knew how close they’d been raised, and so it wasn’t surprising to her when Cersei went in for the kill early, “This is Osmund Kettleblack.” Osmund put out his hand, waiting for Jaime to shake it.

Jaime nodded but didn’t shake the man’s hand, instead, he spoke, “This is Brienne.”

Brienne’s feet felt heavy as she moved forward next to Jaime, “Tarth,” she said, silently cursing herself for opening her big, ugly mouth, praying that there wasn't any lipstick on her teeth, “Brienne Tarth.”

Cersei’s eyes suddenly flashed to hers, and Brienne realized that the same appraising smile that Jaime once used on her long ago was now on Cersei’s lips, although she didn’t remember his being so poisonous, “How… very nice to meet you,” Cersei said at last, not sparing Brienne another glance, apparently realizing Brienne was no threat to her. For some reason, this filled Brienne with irritation, the kind she got when there were pebbles stuck in her shoe, but she kept quiet, unwilling to break the silence.

Instead, Jaime did. “She’s my friend,” Jaime declared, his jaw rigid and Brienne winced. Oh why, oh why would he say that? Was he asking to be destroyed?

If it had been another woman, or another situation, Brienne would have described the scowl on Cersei’s face as a sweet smile, “That’s nice. Kettleblack is my lover.”

Jaime’s right hand was in a full fist now, and Brienne decided to grab his left one before he did anything completely stupid, “It was very nice to meet you both, but we’re in the middle of looking for a gift for our friends. I hope you have a pleasant afternoon.” Jaime breathed out and tightly grasped Brienne’s fingers. She tried to ignore how lovely it felt to hold his hand, his calluses rubbing against her own. Brienne felt like squirming but kept still, tightening her hold on his hand. Jaime didn’t let go, despite the pain he must have felt. In fact, his grip on her increased as well.

Cersei’s eyes darted towards their shared hands, and the fake smile disappeared entirely, “I see,” she sniffed, her green eyes darkening.

“I’m so glad you do, dear sister,” Jaime said, with a twisted smile that Brienne prayed she would never see again, before turning around and leaving both Cersei and Osmund Kettleblack behind.

* * *

 

Jaime was seething.

But somehow holding onto Brienne’s fingers was helping his anger dissipate.

“Jaime, you must let go now. I need to pay for the plant.”

“No,” he said, feeling like a small child and enjoying the feeling, especially since it made Brienne so irritated.

Good, everyone should be mad. Cersei was fucking another man. He already knew that of course, it’s what caused his fucking divorce, but he didn’t need to see the man’s smug, bitchy face.

Nor did he need to see his step-sister’s.

“Jaime, I will pull your arm out of your socket if I have to, let go,” Brienne stated. She didn’t even sound mad so Jaime let go, resolving to grab her hand again as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

Mostly he wanted to do it to irritate Brienne, but it was also nice to hold someone’s hand. Cersei never wanted to do that.

Except apparently with fucking Osmund Kettleblack.

Jaime wondered if Brienne even noticed that Cersei and fuckface were holding hands. He doubted it, the wench looked like she was more focused on making sure that he didn’t punch out Kettleblack’s lights.

Which he was only sort of grateful for, because any stay in jail would be worth it to knock that smug grin off that asshole’s face.

“Are you okay, Jaime?” Brienne asked once she finished paying for the plant.

He wasn’t even sure why they bought Roslin and Edmure a plant, although he suspected Roslin would be pleased with it. Roslin seemed like the type.

“I’m peachy-keen, seeing my ex-wife who also happens to be my ex-step-sister isn’t awkward at all. Especially in a city of millions of people, because we all know running into her was bound to happen with a population this large because the world loves to laugh at Jaime Lannister.”

Brienne said nothing and Jaime hated her for it, until she grabbed his hand silently. He took it, trying not to act like it meant much to him, but it did, and he hated that it did. She grasped the plant with her free arm and together they walked another few blocks before reaching their friends’ new place.

 Which was a really nice floor-through apartment in the West Side, apparently.

“How the hell are they even affording this place?” Jaime demanded, looking up at it from the bottom of the stoop, “It’s not like either of them make big bucks.”

“Roslin does pretty well, actually,” Brienne corrected, as they walked up the staircase to the apartment.

“This is West-Side. Hell, this is fancy West-Side. Celebrities live around here, probably. Edmure can’t afford this shit. And I doubt Roslin can either.”

Brienne sighed, “What do you want from me, Jaime?”

“Everything.”

She hesitated a moment before rolling her sapphire eyes, as if she was seriously considering what he said before dismissing it entirely, “Can you ring the doorbell, please?”

He smiled jauntily and pressed the doorbell to apartment number 1 so hard that it left a circular imprint on his finger. It wasn’t long before he heard loud and jubilant footsteps. They were soon greeted by Roslin’s bright smile as she opened the door to the apartment complex, “Come in, come in!” she laughed.

Brienne handed Roslin the plant, which almost toppled the smaller woman over, but Roslin kept beaming, “Oh, this is perfect, I’ll put it in the kitchen. Thank you both so much.”

Brienne threw Roslin a tight-lipped smile while Jaime grunted at the tall plant.

_It was no karaoke machine._

Roslin escorted them into her apartment, that had a black number 1 nailed into the wall next to the door that Roslin strategically left open when she went to greet Jaime and Brienne (Jaime closed it since he was the last one in), straight into what Jaime assumed was the living room where Edmure was still unloading boxes.

“You two showed up after all! We were beginning to suspect you weren’t coming,” Edmure chuckled, dropping the box he was about to unpack onto the table next to him. Jaime noted with slight amusement that his friend had shaved off his beard, but decided not to say anything about that. Roslin evidently preferred Edmure without one.

Brienne’s easy going smile folded into a small frown. She didn’t know how to deal with Edmure, Jaime had realized this not too long after their disastrous double date. They weren’t at all right for each other, possibly even as friends. Jaime wasn’t sure why the hell he even thought they would be right for each other even for a shitty date.

But he hadn’t been sure about anything for the longest time, “Of course we came, Edmure, how could we miss out on our friends’ new lives!” Jaime said, trying to hold back any irony or bitterness.

“So, what did you get us anyways?”

“Are gifts all that matter to you, Edmure? Truly our presence counts for something?” Jaime bantered, placing a hand over his heart in mock-hurt.

Edmure smirked, but before he could say anything too crude, his other, better half arrived on the scene, “They brought us a plant! It cheers up the kitchen’s atmosphere, it was quite lovely of you two to bring us it.”

Edmure looked unimpressed at the thought of a plant being a decent gift, but he said nothing, probably because Roslin’s smile brightened up her whole face.

 “You still have a lot to unpack,” Brienne remarked, looking over at the boxed clogging the pathway.

“We’re deciding what we should keep. We both have a lot of furniture so it’s tough,” Roslin chirped.

“We’re keeping my fishing trophies though,” Edmure insisted.

“Your fishing trophies? I didn’t know you fished,” Brienne replied.

“I, uh, well I don’t. It’s –“

Roslin interrupted him, “It’s those talking fish. The electronic ones that sing songs and stuff, you know what I’m talking about, Brienne, those horrid things that we always make fun of! But Edmure wants to keep his…” Her tiny jaw clenched and her chin was raised, and she almost looked as determined as Brienne did when the wench and him argued about something stupid. There was some fire in Roslin after all, Jaime realized with amusement.

Good thing, she’d need it with Edmure’s family, he thought ruefully remembering the time he met Edmure’s uncle.

“I love those talking fish!” Edmure protested.

“We’ll let Brienne and Jaime be the judge, since we’re not going to be able to decide in a fair manner otherwise,” Roslin stated, her head bobbling in thought, “So what do you guys think?”

Jaime didn’t care. He always hated that talking fish when he went over to Edmure’s place, but he wasn’t the one who’d be living here.

All he could really envision was Cersei. She made him throw out everything that wasn’t hers and he did it willingly, stuck in the belief that they belonged together, that they were supposed to live and die as one.

“It’s a little… tacky, I suppose,” Brienne said quietly, intruding on his thoughts.

Roslin smiled triumphantly and Edmure glared at Brienne, his jaw tight.

Jaime snapped.

“It’s a piece of shit, Edmure. And you’re going to ruin whatever you have with Roslin over a fucking singing fish that everyone but you hates. I gave up everything to be with Cersei, I gave up my apartment, my television, because she hated television, I gave up my ratty old bathrobe that I adored because it made her happy, I gave it all up. If you love someone, that’s what you do, you give crap up, but you know what, I should have known then that Cersei didn’t love me because she didn’t give anything up.”

Brienne tried to interrupt, “Jaime-“

He paced away from her, “No, they need to hear this. They need to listen to me before it blows up in their faces! Put your damn names in your books. Do it. I don’t even read that much, and yet I was still fighting Cersei over ‘The White Book’ when it came down to it, so just do it. And get that damned singing fish out of here or else you’ll be arguing over that stupid thing too, yes, Roslin, you’ll be wanting that ugly ass singing fish.”

Roslin's eyes were wide and she grabbed Edmure’s hand, her shoulders hunched over as if she was afraid of Jaime. Edmure looked less mad than Jaime would have expected, his eyes were more of a mix of bewilderment and pity, which somehow enraged Jaime even more.

It took Jaime less than thirty seconds to leave the apartment and slam the door.

* * *

 

Brienne winced as the door slammed, and turned towards her friends. Roslin’s lower lip was jutted out in fear while Edmure’s hands ghosted along Roslin’s shoulders.

While Brienne couldn’t say she was very fond of Edmure, she was glad he was good to Roslin, “I suppose I should explain… we ran into Cersei while shopping for your gift.”

“Oh fuck,” Edmure swore, “You need to call his brother Tyrion, if Jaime keeps this act up.”

“Was it all right? Did they create a scene or anything?” Roslin asked, her face more composed now that she knew the reason for Jaime’s actions.

“No, there wasn’t really a scene,” Brienne hesitated, “It was just very tense and awkward and I think it opened a lot of wounds that were starting to heal within Jaime.”

“He hasn’t been healing at all, Brienne,” Edmure sighed, “You should go out there and check on him.”

“Me?” Brienne was surprised by this, she would have thought that Edmure would want to go, since he was Jaime’s best and oldest friend.

Edmure shrugged, “You calm him down. I just rile him up.”

“Oh.”

“Just ring the bell if you need us, Brienne,” Roslin smiled gently.

Brienne nodded before walking out of the room and out the door as fast as her long legs could carry her.

Right into Jaime’s back.

“Oof.”

“Watch it,” Jaime warned, turning around so he could see her better. He smiled crookedly at Brienne, “I just can’t get rid of you can I?”

“It’s not like you’re trying,” she managed to say. And it was true. He was literally standing right out on the stoop, when if he had really wanted to get away he could have walked at least two blocks by now.

He shrugged but didn’t let go of his smile, “What do you want?”

She stared at him, “Jaime, you just had a fit in there.”

“And what are you doing here then?”

“Making sure you’re ok…” Brienne said very slowly, enunciating every syllable. She was wondering if he had lost his mind when he laughed.

“God, of course you are. Of course you fucking are.” His laugh didn’t reach his eyes, which suddenly became dark and mean-looking.

“What the hell does that mean?” she demanded.

“Nothing, it means nothing,” he said, “God damn it.”

“You can’t let Cersei do this to you,” Brienne stated calmly, forcing herself to sound as unruffled as possible.

“I can’t stop her from doing this to me. She’s controlled me practically my entire fucking life,” he shouted, “Since we were children! Children, Brienne! And you have no right to tell me not to freak out because you never freak out and that’s fucking weirder than screaming and yelling!”

“Stop it.”

He lowered his voice, but he sounded ragged, “No, you stop it, you don’t get it. No one fucking gets it. But especially you. You’re not even fucking upset over Hyle. You’ve been over him from Day 1. Fucking Day 1.”

Brienne unwillingly clenched her jaw, “I mourned privately, I don’t need to scream and shout and cry, especially in front of other people.”

He snorted and Brienne’s anger flared. She pushed past him and went down the stone steps.

But then she stopped when Jaime’s voice followed her, “If you’re so over Hyle, why haven’t you fucked anyone?”

Brienne spun around, seething and seeing red, “I do not need to sleep with anyone to prove a point to you. If I am going to FUCK,” Jaime blanched at her use of the word, “I will do it when it is making love. I’m not you, Jaime. And it’s not like fucking other women is making Cersei go away. You’re still not over her despite fucking half of New York City.”

They both stared at each other with labored breaths, as if they couldn’t believe what they both just said. But Brienne couldn’t regret it. Not with the way Jaime was acting.

Jaime broke the silence first, “I’m sorry.”

She blinked.

An apology was the last thing she expected from him, but his green eyes seemed mournful, and he reached out his hand to grab hers and suddenly she couldn’t help but embrace him.

“It’s ok,” she whispered into his ear, feeling his muscular arms tighten their grip around her thick waist.

“I know.”

* * *

 

Roslin and Edmure’s apartment was in full glory, homier than any apartment Jaime had ever been in. Months had passed since Jaime’s little temper tantrum, which is what everyone else called it, Jaime personally considered his fit “worldly advice”.

But he had to admit it. Roslin knew how to decorate.

Edmure even got to keep most of his stuff and she worked it into the overall décor of the apartment. Once, Jaime asked Brienne if his advice caused the decorating scheme but the big wench scowled at him informing him that the world did not revolve around his words. Which obviously meant yes, his words did affect Roslin, but the stubborn woman didn’t want to admit it.

Jaime was glad that something good came out of it though – he was sometimes embarrassed to think about how he treated his friends that day. He made sure to be on his best behavior around the two of them from that point onwards, saving his sly remarks to share with Brienne later, who would either laugh or sigh depending on her mood (but even when she sighed, he knew that she was laughing on the inside). 

She was too good for him. Her friendship was the best thing in the world that ever happened to him, it as if she sucked out everything poisonous Cersei left in his system.

He leaned back into the corduroy couch as a crowd of voices swept over him, their words enveloping Brienne as she attempted to draw on the white board.

Jaime was on her team, but was too lazy to actually guess what she was drawing – she was possibly the worst artist he had ever seen much to his amusement.

But even he knew that whatever she was drawing was not “baby fish mouth” as Edmure kept insisting.

Brienne looked over her shoulder exasperatedly before turning to draw once more. Jaime took his time watching her. She was clothed in a dark blue dress that hung to her knees and the way the dress was made it almost looked like she had an actual waist. 

He hoped her date appreciated it.

Fucking Renly Baratheon laughed and laughed as Edmure continued his insistance on “baby fish mouth” while Brienne continued her drawing.

Margaery Tyrell smiled demurely, “Edmure, I don’t think that’s it. She already said it wasn’t.” Margaery was Jaime’s date, but something about her smile bothered him. She was very pretty, possibly almost as pretty as Cersei despite being a brunette, but her smile felt unreal.

Still, she was one of the funniest, smartest, and loveliest girls he had dated in a long while, so he ignored her peculiar smiles that reminded him too much of Cersei. 

“But that’s what it looks like,” Edmure protested.

“Time’s up!” Roslin announced cheerily causing Edmure to groan and Renly to laugh louder.

Jaime had never hated someone’s laugh so much.

“It was baby talk,” Brienne said with a fierce glare in Edmure’s direction.

He scowled, “That’s ridiculous. There is no way that is a saying.”

“And baby fish mouth is?” Jaime heard himself ask, causing Margaery to giggle.

Even her giggle felt _wrong_ somehow, he thought, while she grasped his thigh in an effort to get up from the couch. He hoisted himself up as well, while noting how Renly smiled up at Brienne.

He was too damn short for her. Even Jaime didn’t have to look up to talk to her, even if she was taller than him by an inch or so. Their eyes met.

“Hey, Edmure, do you still have that whiskey hidden in your desk?” Jaime asked in a mock-whisper, needing an excuse to talk to Edmure alone.

Margaery laughed while Roslin’s amused eyes met Edmure’s panicked ones.

Brienne and Renly didn’t notice, they were too wrapped up in their own conversation.

Edmure slapped the back of Jaime’s head as vengeance before leading him into his study, where dark colors ruled the décor.

Now this looked more like Edmure’s old apartment. Roslin let Edmure get away with much more than Jaime was ever allowed to with Cersei, he noted. While the talking fish was long gone, there was still posters of Edmure’s favorite films including “Dawn of the Dead”, “Jaws”, and “Star Wars”.

“So what’s up with the Renly guy,” Jaime asked once Edmure opened the bottle and poured Jaime a glass. Jaime grabbed the glass from his friend's hand and sipped it while he waited for Edmure's answer.

Edmure threw Jaime a _look,_ “You brought me in here for _that_?” Edmure emphasized, obviously annoyed as he downed his whiskey.

Jaime sipped his glass and shrugged, “Yes.”

“Oh God, you _are_ a moron. Renly is gay, you idiot.”

Jaime choked on his drink, “What the hell. Wait, does Brienne know this?”

“Of course she does! They are friends! Did you think you were her only platonic male friend for Christ’s sake?” Edmure demanded.

“Yes.”

“Jaime, for the love of-“ Edmure stopped, “Wait - how did you not know this? Your girlfriend’s brother and Renly are dating!”

“What?” This was brand new information for Jaime, who honestly only half-listened to Margaery’s stories of her slightly older brother Loras. Her brother honestly seemed like an annoying, arrogant asshole who discomfortingly reminded Jaime of himself in his younger days.

The only thing he really knew about Loras was that Margaery adored him. He didn’t even know that Loras was gay.

Edmure poured himself another glass, “Jaime, I do not understand how you did not notice. I’m pretty sure Margaery and Renly even greeted each other like old friends, why didn’t you question that?”

Jaime didn’t even remember that happening, he had been too busy admiring Brienne’s legs when her blue dress rode up as she got up from the couch when Margaery and he arrived to the apartment.

But he wouldn’t admit that to Edmure, he’d make it more than it was, “I am not the most observant man, you know this, Edmure.”

“Yet, somehow you’re a good lawyer… I will never understand this,” Edmure commented, immediately downing his second glass of whiskey after he finished speaking. His dark eyes looked glassy – the alcohol was apparently potent.

Jaime raised his glass to Edmure with a mocking smile, “Cheers to that.”

* * *

 

The kitchen was bright and cheery, and it almost felt as if it was a reflection of Roslin’s soul, with pretty yellow wallpaper and white marble flooring, and possibly the nicest and most organized kitchen island that Brienne had ever seen.

It was honestly a bit too much for Brienne. 

“Could you help me unpack the pies?” Roslin asked. Her nimble, petite fingers were untying the packages of desserts that were left on the kitchen table. And there were _many_ packages.

“How many pies do we need, really?” Brienne asked, as she unwrapped a blueberry pie from its package.

Roslin laughed, “Probably not this many, but it was kind of Margaery to bring them.”

A string inside Brienne’s heart was plucked and so she asked, as casually as she could muster, “Don’t you think she’s a bit young for him?”

“She’s young but ambitious and mature. Look at what she’s done,” Roslin replied, her sunny smile unceasing.

“She brought over pie,” Brienne said dumbly, feeling as if she was missing a piece of the puzzle.

Roslin’s beautiful smile dropping from her pretty face didn’t help, “Brienne… she made the pies.”

“So she bakes?” Brienne said, still feeling as if there was something else going on. After all, even she could bake a pie.

Roslin laughed now as if she couldn’t believe that Brienne didn’t know who Margaery was, “Oh dear, Brienne, Margaery is ‘Aunt Margaery’, you know the pastry queen of New York City! She supplies catering all the finest events in the city. She’s makes 500 chocolate pies a week, and that’s just chocolate!”

“Oh.”

Roslin chuckled, almost sounding like Edmure in her laughter, “I’m surprised you don’t know this, since Renly is dating Margaery’s brother.”

“I honestly forgot about that,” Brienne said truthfully. She disliked the connection between her friend and Jaime’s date. Not because Renly was gay, of course, but because she disliked any connection to someone who shouldn’t be dating Jaime.

There was just something too sly in her. The slyness was probably why Margaery was so successful, but Jaime needed someone honest, especially after the damage Cersei caused in his heart.

“Renly is very fun, it’s a shame that you two can’t be a couple though,” Roslin said wistfully, as if she was imagining giant, dark haired, stubborn children with Renly’s laugh and Brienne’s blue eyes.

“I suppose,” Brienne said automatically. Once, long ago, before she had met Hyle, she had wished for the same, but Renly was just a friend now. She felt nothing for him and hadn’t in years. And Loras was nice enough. They were a very cute couple.

“And don’t worry Margaery is good for Jaime. He thinks he’s a kid in his mid-twenties anyways,” Roslin giggled.

“Now that I do know,” Brienne admitted, remembering how Jaime had tried to climb over the statue of Balto in Central Park during their run the other day. He had sat on top of poor Balto, as if the noble dog was a steed, and laughed when Brienne scolded him from the pathway, too exhausted to climb up the small hill and chase him off the dog.

“We should have brought a camera,” he declared wildly, his golden hair sticking to his sweat-soaked brow, his charming smile even more handsome than normal because it had looked so real and genuine and _happy_.

Brienne photographed it mentally, even as she protested Jaime’s behavior until he had finally got off with a shrug and a laugh.

Could he get away with that sort of Jaime-like behavior in front of Margaery?

Somehow Brienne couldn’t imagine it.

* * *

Jaime was fast asleep when the telephone rang next to his ear, jolting him awake. He wiped the drool away from his mouth and with a wince, realized the television was still on, cartoons blaring loudly, but he ignored it for the ringing phone.

“Yellow,” he yawned.

“Jaime,” a feminine voice sniffed.

For a terrible second, Jaime thought it was Cersei, but when he heard a shuddering whimper, he knew it was Brienne.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, as gently as he possibly could, although it was quite difficult to manage due to Daffy Duck and Bugs Bunny cracking jokes in the background.

“going married,” she mumbled, her tearful cries obliterating most of what she was really saying.

“Who’s getting married?”

He heard a loud sniff, “Hyle.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Oh no, Jaime, you shouldn’t it’s… it’s too late,” she objected. He could imagine her all wrapped up in her bed with tissue paper clogging up her nose more than the snot caused by her tears was.

“You already woke me up, I might as well go and see you in person, wench,” he told her, putting more humor in the simple sentence than he felt.

He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen the girl cry before. Not like this. And he was terrible with tears.

Well, not with Cersei’s shaky sobs, though she tried to hide it from him, even when they were married. But he knew how to handle his former step-sister’s tears as growing up with her prepared him, but Brienne’s tears would be another matter entirely.

He fretted over what to say and do when he got to Brienne’s while he rode over to her apartment and paid the taxi driver, he was petrified of making her worse, and wondered why he was even going over there in the first place.

But still, a half hour later, he was knocking at her door, and she opened it, smiling blearily at him, wearing an ugly sweatshirt that said “University of Chicago.”

Brinne’s nose was redder than the infamous Rudolph’s and she had honestly never looked uglier. But there was no urge to give her a friendly insult. Not with the tears hiding in her eyes.

“I’m okay now, Jaime,” she protested even as she let him in the door, sniffing loudly.

He surveyed the scene, noticing the tear-jerker VHS films lying in a tall pile by the television, and next to the bottle of red wine (was she drinking straight from the bottle?) on the coffee table was a photograph album.

“Brienne, you should have called me sooner than you did,” Jaime muttered, pushing past her to sit on the couch. He took a swig from the bottle of red wine and winced as the bitter taste ran down his throat.

She stood, uneasily staring at him and he sighed, “C’mon wench, sit down, and let’s have a talk.” Brienne’s face still revealed nothing but anxiety, but she timidly sat down next to him, almost falling over in his lap as she tripped over his feet.

Blushing, she spoke again, “I’m much better now, Jaime. I promise.”

“Bullshit,” Jaime smiled, “You need to talk it out.”

Instead of rolling her eyes like she normally would, the big wench burst into tears.

Feeling helpless, Jaime patted her shoulder, “It’s all right, Brienne,” he murmured.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called you,” Brienne said between sniffles. Her head was bent over, facing her lap, so he was surprised that he could hear her at all.

“It’s okay.”

He felt Brienne shudder under his palm and she released one more loud cry, before sitting back up. She didn’t look at him, instead her eyes were staring straight at the television set that was set up across the room.

“I-I don’t know where to start.”

“The beginning is always a good place,” Jaime quipped, trying to make her smile.

She didn’t.

“I… yes, that-“ she stopped herself and took a deep breath. Jaime wrapped his around her shoulders now, unable to stop from marveling at how strong her back muscles were, despite the serious situation that should have been holding his attention.

“He called me up,” she said, leaning into Jaime’s arms. He held her tight, their faces close enough that he could smell the alcohol that she had obviously been drinking before he had arrived, “out of the blue, really. I hadn’t heard from him since he moved out. Just wanted to see how I was. I told him I was great, because really I am, or, I suppose,” Brienne grimaced, “I was. But as he was talking I had to hold in a laugh, because I couldn’t believe how much the sound of his voice didn’t bother me. I was really over him!”

Jaime bit his lip in an effort from pointing out that she had been claiming that she had been over Hyle from Day 1.

“He’s getting married to some girl in his office. One of Tarly’s daughters that he just met!” Brienne started to cry, and adjusted herself so her face was flat against Jaime’s abdomen, “She’s not supposed to be the one he gets married to!” she cried, her voice muffled against Jaime’s sweater.

He caressed the locks of her hair until she removed her face from his stomach. Brienne looked up at him and he wished her head was farther removed from his groin. Her eyes were even more shockingly blue than usual, reminding Jaime of a vacation he took as a child to the Carribean, where a dark storm quickly changed the calm, azure waters into something more heady and dangerous.

“He didn’t love me, Jaime. He didn’t want to get married to me,” she whispered.

Jaime took a breath to regain his senses, unable to stop wishing that he could have a moment to stop the heat from pulling away from his brain, “Then he’s a fool.”

“What’s the matter with me?” she cried again, laying her head on his shoulder.

“Nothing,” he said honestly.

“I’m too tall and ugly. Did you know he once said to me, that every maiden was beautiful in the dark'?”

Jaime bit the inside of his cheek, “I’m going to kill him.”

She ignored him, or didn’t hear, “Look at me, Jaime, who would want to stare at this face the rest of their life?”

Jaime was about to say something that he knew he’d regret when she bulldozed over him to say something else, “I’m going to be forty soon, too.”

“In eight years, Brienne,” Jaime laughed, unable to stop the humor from bubbling outward.

 “It’s not the same for men, Jaime,” she lectured, removing herself from his arms, to stare at him sternly, “You can get married when you’re fifty-something and until then you’ll just be an old, handsome former bachelor who coaches his children’s little league team. But if I did that, I wouldn’t be able to have children, I would be the butt of jokes and the object of my friends’ pity.”

“I might be able to have children in my late ages, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be able to teach them how to play basketball, pretty sure I’ll fall and break a hip,” he joked.

Brienne’s severe expression broke a little and he grabbed her waist to pull her back into his arms, “C’mon Brienne. You’re going to be fine.”

She cried into his shoulder, “All I wanted was a family and now he’s going to have one.”

Jaime kissed her forehead, worriedly noting how cold she was, “You will too, Brienne, I promise.”

She looked up into his eyes then and licked her lips for a fraction of a second. Suddenly, Jaime felt cold. He realized her sapphire eyes were gazing at his lips, and he could feel her breath caressing his neck.

Brienne sat up straighter in his lap and now Jaime had to look up into her eyes, but chose, instead, to look at her lips instead. Their breaths met, and Jaime had never felt so intimate with another human being before, not even Cersei, and so it wasn’t a surprise when their lips found each other.

In the end, neither would have been able to say who kissed the other first, but Jaime didn’t care much about that, only that his lips were pressed up against hers, mouths opening, and clothes were being shed with abandon.

He delighted in finding every spot where a freckle hid on her body, smiled when she suckled on his neck, and moaned as Brienne’s kisses moved further down his body, both of them twisting and turning, determined to find ways to bring pleasure to each other. 

But then even that ended after a time. Still Brienne rested her head on his chest, her eyes closed and her mouth in a small smile that reminded Jaime of every cat he had ever seen resting in the sunlight. She was happy.

Jaime wished he shared her contentment. Instead, he felt as if the moon that was hanging outside the apartment window was swallowing him whole.

_What the hell did he just do?_

* * *

Brienne blinked as the sunlight streamed from her window and yawned, before realizing she was absolutely stark naked.

And that Jaime wasn’t underneath her anymore.

She blushed, remembering all that they had did together. She had never been so thoroughly, well. . . fucked. It was just so wonderful.

Jaime opened the door from the bathroom before her thoughts could wander anymore, “Good, you’re awake,” he said, as if she wasn’t naked on the couch in front of him. He was dressed in the clothes he wore the night before, including the sweater that she soaked her tears in. He looked tired which wasn’t too much of a surprise considering she called him at 2 in the morning.

She smiled up at him, craning her neck, “I see you’re dressed.”

It meant to be a teasing joke, banter between lovers, but instead his face soured, “I have to go to visit my brother’s today, him and I are supposed to have lunch, but-“ he hesitated.

Her smile slid off her face, “Oh, I was hoping…” her voice faltered.

“We’ll have dinner, me and you,” he promised. An odd sort of smile appeared on his face, it looked almost as if he had hammered it on top of a frown, “I just really need to go home and change now, or else I’ll be late for lunch with Tyrion.”

She nodded and he bent over her to kiss the top of her head, “I’ll call you after lunch,” he murmured into her hair.

A wave of fear crept into Brienne’s soul, but she kept a smile as fixed as Jaime’s on her face until he left.

And then she called Roslin.

“Roslin, I –I did something,” Brienne said into her phone, sitting up on the couch, the material scratching into her naked bum. She frowned.

Roslin yawned into her ear, “Brienne? Is that you?”

“Yes, sorry,” Brienne apologized, “I know it’s around 9 in the morning and it’s a Saturday, and I know you like to sleep in on the weekend, but I have to talk to you.”

“What’s the matter?” Roslin asked, sounding more awake. Brienne could almost imagine her friend’s dark eyes lighting up.

“I did something terrible,” Brienne confessed. In the background, she could hear Edmure murmur something to Roslin, but she ignored Jaime’s friend, “It’s so awful.”

“Brienne, what did you do?”

“Jaime came over last night.”

“Oh… oh… OH!” Roslin said, her enthusiasm growing with every ‘oh’, “That’s good right?”

“How is that good? Him and I… we…” Brienne swallowed, “We did it.”

Roslin laughed and Brienne wished that she could put her arm into the phone and shake her, “Is that all? I... well, we actually, Edmure has been all for this as well, we’ve been hoping you would for months!”

“Roslin!” Brienne lectured, scandalized.

“Oh, Brienne, how could we not?” Roslin laughed again, before a more serious tone developed, “So… how was it?”

Brienne blushed, “I thought it was good…” she said, recalling his lips on hers, and the fiery way he looked at her.

“But?”

“But he... he just ran away. It was like he vanished.”

The silence was heavy and Brienne suddenly wished she had clothes on. The shame of it all was heavy on her broad shoulders. It was if she was Eve in the Garden of Eden.

“I’m sorry, Brienne,” Roslin said at last.

“It’s all right, I was stupid to –“ Brienne sighed, “Never mind.”

“Do you want to come over?” Roslin asked quietly.

“I wish I could but I feel too awful. Maybe later.”

“Good,” Roslin said, quickly. Brienne raised an eyebrow until she remembered Roslin couldn’t see it, but Roslin spoke again, “It’s just… so early you know. I might go back to sleep. I’ll call you when I wake up again, ok?”

“Thanks, Roslin. Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

* * *

This was the stupidest thing he had ever done. Why the hell was he taking her on a date, this would just make everything even worse than it already was. Why couldn’t he just throw her a quip and a blanket as she lay on the couch as naked as she was on the day of her birth, instead of standing there like a stiff?

“Fuck,” he groaned as he nicked himself with the razor. The damned wench was in his brain, making him bleed.

But Jaime knew he deserved it.

He deserved to have his damned hand cut off just for the sins he had before he had even met Brienne.

And for doing this to her… he deserved to have his neck and head separated.

He swore again, the razor grazing his chin.

Fuck it all, he’d go on the shitty date with stubble, he decided, slamming the razor down on the bathroom sink, and pulling on his dinner jacket.

He’d get through this dinner, somehow, and tell her that while it was one of the best times of his life, which was not a lie, that they probably shouldn’t have done it.

God damn it why did Tyrion have to cancel lunch. He could have asked his younger brother about how to handle the situation he was stuck in, God knows Tyrion had been in enough messes like this before. 

Jaime memorized a speech to say to Brienne as he walked to the restaurant, despite the length of the trip usually requiring a taxi. He needed cold air in his lungs and burning in his legs to give himself a break from thoughts about Brienne, yet it wasn’t working. All he could see was her freckled back.

“Jaime?” And now he was hearing her too.

He turned around and smiled jovially, “Ah, Brienne… you’re not dressed.”

The tall blonde was in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, not looking very fit for a meal at a restaurant that required men in dinner jackets and ladies in skirts.

Her face was overtaken by red, “Oh, well, see, I decided to get here early, because I couldn’t reach you on the phone, I don’t think I feel very well tonight.”

He blinked, “So you waited out in the cold to tell me you couldn’t go?”

She blushed, “I’ve only been waiting about five minutes and the taxi is right there, waiting to take me back home. I just wanted you to know that I’m canceling.”

“Is this because of last night?”

Something flashed in her eyes, but she smiled, “Partly, but we both know we shouldn’t have done that. Anyways, good night, Jaime.”

“Good night…” he said, feeling even worse than he had five minutes previously. She pushed past him and entered the taxi, slamming its door as it pulled away from the curb.

Jaime looked up at the sky and saw no stars. What a pity. He could have used a wish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't finished writing the final chapter, so it might take a while for that one to show up, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thank you all for the kudos and reviews


	7. It Had to Be You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their friendship breaks apart but something else takes its place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! I hope you all enjoy it. :)

 

 

**Chapter 7 - It Had to Be You**

Brienne wondered vaguely if she was being punished for misdeeds in a past life because why else would she be forced to sit through endless displays of wedding gowns, waiting while Roslin tried on each one and twirled around in it, until Roslin, once again, realized that the wedding dress was found wanting.

“I think this is the one, Brienne!” Roslin yelled from her inner sanctum. The dressing room was designed so that there was a small waiting area for friends and family, and one dressing room for the bride.

Brienne was sitting in the large dressing room, in front of one of the many mirrors that were placed in the room. Another reason she hated this place. It wasn’t kind of the universe to place someone like her in front of a mirror. And now the awful things surrounded her.

“That’s wonderful,” Brienne said, just loud enough for Roslin to hear, before sullenly staring into her reflection.

Brienne’s nose looked larger than it did yesterday. Or perhaps it was the dreadful lighting that made her look so terrible. But even terrible lighting couldn’t explain the dark circles under her eyes and the sallow color in her skin.

She looked awful.

Roslin opened her door with a ravishing smile, “I like this one,” she stated, twirling her long, white skirt about, looking quite like a southern belle.

While Brienne looked like the living dead, Roslin looked like sunshine in human form, her eyes twinkling, the color of roses in her cheeks and lips – she was already one of the prettiest women Brienne had ever known, and it seemed as if the white gown made her even more so.

“I’ll have my hair pinned up, I think. I’m not sure how fancy I should make it, considering the wedding isn’t going to be that big. My family isn’t even coming… they don’t like that I’m marrying Edmure, I think they wanted me to marry someone more important or something and they’re making such a big fuss that Edmure suggested I just uninvite them, so I did! You can’t imagine how relieved I am that my own family won’t be at my wedding. But knowing them, they’d make a huge ruckus and it’d just ruin everything. Not much of Edmure’s family is going either though, only his father and uncle could make it, so it’ll mostly be our friends. But yes, do you like the dress? I think it’s perfect – a little too traditional, perhaps but – oh, Brienne, do say you like it!”

 “You have never looked more beautiful,” Brienne said, trying not to cry.

But tears fell down her face anyways, “Oh, Brienne, don’t cry!” Roslin said, moving towards Brienne, “Although, I have to say your tears are promising… I think Edmure will be without words when I come down the aisle… just wait one moment, Brienne, I’m going to get changed and buy the dress and then we’ll go on a nice walk and talk, is that all right?”

Brienne nodded, wiping her tears off her face. She had never been the type of girl to cry at silly things and yet, here she was crying in a department store all because her friend looked pretty in a dress.

Foolish.

After another 20 minute wait that included Roslin becoming entangled in her new wedding dress and an argument with the cashier about the price that almost brought the small brunette to tears, they left the store with the dress in hand.

“I’ll have to get it tailored, of course, but it’s so lovely even as it is,” Roslin chirped, a bright smile on her face until a frown replaced it, “Oh, gosh, Brienne, something just occurred to me… Jaime’s the best man. And you’re the maid of honor. Will that be a problem?”

“No,” she said truthfully, not caring about Jaime one bit. They hadn’t talked since the night she abandoned their date. She couldn’t bring herself to call him. If he wanted to talk to her, he had to do it. It was Jaime who ran, it wasn’t her.

“Oh… good, I was worried.”

A thought occurred to Brienne, “He’s not bringing a date is he?”

“Oh no, he broke up with Margaery about two months ago, which you already knew, I’m sure, since you two were still talking then, and he hasn’t seen anyone really since. Not anyone seriously, anyways,” Roslin amended.

“Hm.”

“Anyways,” Roslin continued, looking reluctant to talk about Jaime anymore, “Are you bringing someone?”

“No.” Who would want the ugly wench?

“Brienne…”

Brienne smiled, noticing that they were by the subway, “I’m going to take the subway and go home now, but I’ll see you very soon, Roslin. The rehearsals and all that.”

Roslin nodded, “Of course.”

* * *

 

Jaime hated weddings.

Even his own had been an uncomfortable blur, Cersei needing a loud and large wedding to accommodate her need for socializing, so Jaime had snuck away with Tyrion, laughing at the guests behind their backs while Cersei and his father dealt with the drunken crowds.

His warmest memory of the wedding was talking with Tyrion about how their lives would be now that he was married to Cersei. While Tyrion disliked his ex-step-sister as much as Jaime had adored her, he teased Jaime as good-naturedly as any brother would on a wedding day. It felt almost like Tyrion genuinely liked Cersei, instead of the truth. That Cersei and Tyrion would kill each other if they could, “You’re a fool for love, brother,” he had told Jaime, after finishing half a bottle of red wine, “You were a creature made to love.”

Jaime had laughed at the words then, with youthful naiveté, but his remembrance of the conversation was not as fond now, after all, Cersei made him a fool and a cuckold as soon as she cheated on him.

So even his happiest memory of his wedding was soured when he remembered how dark his younger brother’s eyes had been when he called Jaime a fool for love. He knew then, Jaime realized after recollecting one evening, Tyrion knew then what Cersei would become.

He was startled out of his recollections by the bridal march, and he tried not to grimace.

This was a small wedding, but it seemed as if despite this, that Edmure and Roslin wanted it to be as traditional as possible.

Jaime was grateful that Tyrion was able to join him. Without his little brother by his side, he wasn’t sure if he’d survive the wedding ceremony, let alone the reception. They may have had their differences, but Tyrion had his back.

Well, most of the time.

A little boy in a tuxedo marched down the aisle, his violet eyes serious as he held the pillow that carried the ring with utmost caution. Jaime was almost impressed – at that age Jaime was sure he would have tried to eat the ring.

The flower girl was a baby in the ugliest little pink dress Jaime had ever seen, with porcelain hair and violet eyes as well, but she was being carried by one of the bridesmaids, whose hair, eyes, and dress matched her daughter’s.

This was the infamous Dany that Jaime had heard so much about from Brienne and Roslin and had never seen before despite sharing two friends.  She held herself straight with pride with a strong grip on her baby girl, despite the lace from the dress practically strangling her.

Jaime wondered why Edmure didn’t invite everyone in his family to the wedding. Surely Edmure had nieces and nephews that could fill these roles? Instead, it was Roslin’s friends doing the honor. He slyly glanced over at the groom, who was plucking at his tie as he waited for his bride to walk down the aisle.

Suddenly, Jaime had an overwhelming urge to glance back at the aisle.

Brienne marched down, her heels clopping loudly against the carpet, her face red with embarrassment, which did nothing for her overall complexion especially considering her dress was pink lace. She was just this giant, pinkish red thing with a mop of blonde hair on top.

But still, he had the urge to smile at her, to let her know it was all right, but her gaze never met his. Instead, she kept facing the ground, unwilling to glance in his direction.

Or perhaps she was just nervous, he argued to himself, while Roslin made her entrance. Roslin looked trapped in her dress, as if Edmure was going to have to cut her out of it later on if they wanted to have sex on their wedding night, which Jaime assumed they did. Yet Edmure exhaled appreciatively, loudly enough for Jaime to look over at him. A big, stupid grin was on Edmure’s face and Jaime could hear Roslin giggle as she walked down the aisle. They were sickeningly sweet.

He glanced at Brienne, hoping to exchange a silent conversation about Roslin and Edmure. Her blue eyes met his this time, although they were startled. He grinned at her, but she turned away, apparently embarrassed that she had been caught staring.

Irritation rose in his stomach like bile. But he made himself smile wider, feeling the eyes of the guests who were looking over now that Roslin had made it to her fiancé.

God, he hated weddings.

* * *

 

The ceremony felt like it took forever. Brienne didn’t know how long she could stare at the back of Roslin’s head while avoiding Jaime’s sharp grin.

But she made it.

The reception was small but charming, and Brienne talked animatedly with Edmure’s uncle who told Brienne without hesitation to call him the “Blackfish”. He was older than she had imagined, although still young enough to catch several of Roslin’s old college friends’ attention. He didn’t pay them any mind and instead was intrigued by Brienne after asking what she did for a living.

They were in the middle of a discussion about safety in football when Brienne’s knee was tapped.

She looked down and was startled to see a face she recognized, but did not know.

Tyrion Lannister grinned, “I see that you know who I am then, although I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard to guess even if you didn’t since I know Jaime has told you all about me.”

This stirred the Blackfish’s attention and he looked down at Tyrion, “Jaime Lannister?” He frowned, “That makes you Tyrion then.”

“It does,” Tyrion smiled with faint amusement lurking in his mismatched eyes.

Brienne frowned, “I didn’t know you knew Edmure.”

“Oh, I don’t, not really anyways, we’ve only met a handful of times. I’m here as Jaime’s date as it were.”

The Blackfish snorted, “I thought Jaime would have an easy time finding a date, but I guess even the handsome ones can’t always hook a fish.”

 Tyrion glanced up at Brienne then with an almost worried expression, but she sipped her glass of champagne, trying not to think about how handsome Jaime was and how he looked half a god when he was lying naked in her arms.

“Are you all right, Brienne?” Tyrion asked worriedly. Brienne almost felt touched by his concern but was unable to assuage his worries when the devil in her daydreams walked up to their group.

“Ah, I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Tyrion,” Jaime said, giving a little nod of acknowledgement to Brienne and the Blackfish, before looking at his younger brother, not even waiting to see if Brienne nodded back.

The asshole.

Tyrion smirked, “The problem is that you’ve been looking too high above the ground, brother.” Tyrion’s eyes darted towards Brienne and a wave of confusion swept over her. Did Tyrion mean that Jaime was too busy looking for her? Was it to avoid her or to speak to her?

Jaime looked at Brienne when he noticed where Tyrion’s eyes were looking, “So, Brienne, I see you’ve met my infamous brother. The troublemaker as my father likes to call him.”

Tyrion laughed, “He calls me lots of things and I think you picked the tamest word. I hope it wasn’t to spare **my** feelings.”

Jaime _blushed._

Brienne stared at him and tried to recall a moment, any moment, where Jaime Lannister blushed.

And came up with nothing.

Thankfully, the Blackfish either didn’t notice or didn’t care enough to remark on Jaime’s change in demeanor. He was, instead, noticing that their group of eligible bachelors (and Brienne) was attracting quite a bit of attention by the eligible (and not so eligible) ladies at the wedding and used this as an excuse to get out of the conversation. Brienne missed his presence immediately, not feeling quite up to dealing with TWO Lannisters.

Tyrion, who Brienne realized was as astute as Jaime described him as being, smiled, “Well, the Blackfish is right about one thing, there are many beautiful women at this wedding, and I need to meet many more before I am satisfied. “

Jaime smiled, “Go on then, go find someone to sleep with, I know you always do.”

Tyrion laughed while he walked away, “Maybe not always…” he said with a wave in their direction.

And then she was left alone with Jaime.

“So, this is –“ he began, but Brienne couldn’t handle hearing his voice.

“Jaime, I don’t really want to talk to you.” 

Jaime’s green eyes darkened, “So you are avoiding me then. All because of that stupid night?”

She closed her eyes, “Jaime, just please leave it alone.”

“When are we going go past this?” he demanded. Brienne opened up her eyes and noticed that he had the look of a ticking bomb.

“It just happened, Jaime,” she said tiredly, attempting to walk away, dropping her glass of champagne off at a random table while she left, “Just please leave it and me alone. Let it be.”

“No,” he declared stubbornly. She could hear him trailing behind her. Panicking, Brienne looked for someplace where they couldn’t make a scene.

She would not let Jaime Lannister ruin Roslin’s day.

“C’mon Brienne, stop running away from me like a fucking child,” he said, “and talk about it.”

Brienne swung open the door to an unoccupied hallway and walked in, trying to ignore his voice behind her, “Don’t even talk to me about running away, Lannister,” she spat in an undertone.

“I heard that,” he snapped after closing the door behind them. Brienne was grateful that they could play out this scene alone, “And what the hell do you mean by it?”

She turned around to face him and stumbled on her low heels. Jaime reached out as if to catch her before clenching his fists and putting them by his side. She straightened herself, trying not to blush and looked into his green eyes.

Brienne had spent so much time avoiding looking at Jaime that she forgot how beautiful he was. And it only irritated her more.

“You know what I mean, Jaime.”

“God, wench, you are the most infuriating person I have ever met.”

Brienne’s eyes prickled with unshed tears and her anger rose threefold, “You have no right to call me wench.”

He stared at her, slackjawed, “I didn’t know I had to have a permit to call you a wench,” he said once he had recovered his senses, “I better go file that with the fucking government.”

“Just stop it, Jaime.”

“Or else what, you’ll cry?” he spat, “Good then, cry, wench, I’m immune to it now.”

Brienne wasn’t sure how it happened, but one moment her hand was by her sides and the next it was curled in a fist and Jaime’s nose was bleeding.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, I forgot you’re good at boxing,” he almost laughed, although it was obvious his eyes were watering in pain and perhaps something else but Brienne refused to think on that, “Brienne, no don’t go,” he said as he noticed her retreat, “please don’t run away again.”

She stared at him, “You ran first, Jaime.”

His green eyes were sadder than she had ever seen, but before he could say something that would stir her heart, Brienne ran back into the reception.

It was strange to see how everyone was laughing and flirting, while Brienne had a man’s blood on her knuckles.

She discreetly hid her fist in the lace of her pink dress, hoping that the color would help camouflage it, before looking around for a napkin.

Of course, Tyrion was right by the napkins.

“Ah, I see your fist and my brother’s face have become friends,” Tyrion said before handing her a pink napkin that matched perfectly with her dress.

Brienne blushed and thanked him, unwilling to lie to Jaime’s brother.

There wasn’t a point anyways, Jaime would obviously tell him the truth later on, if the two brothers were as close as they appeared to be.

“Jaime’s never really had good luck at weddings, I am almost glad to see this trend continue. Attending a wedding where Jaime doesn’t have a shitty time would be like celebrating Christmas without a Christmas tree. It just wouldn’t feel right,” Tyrion winked at Brienne.

Brienne nodded, unsure of what Tyrion meant, but was unwilling to be caught in his trap. The smaller Lannister opened his mouth up again, but was interrupted by an inebriated Roslin.

“Everybody! Everrrrybody can I talk to you? I should be able to I’m the bride after all!” Roslin said into a microphone. She was in the center of the dance floor, beaming while Edmure held her up, as if she wasn’t able to walk.

“I see the bride is plastered,” Tyrion remarked, “I should definitely join that club.”

Roslin giggled before speaking again, “This has been such a lovely wedding and I was so worried it’d end up in disaster, but it didn’t! So thank you all for not ruining it.”

In the corner of Brienne’s eye, she noticed Jaime coming in from the hallway, his nose miraculously looking just as it did before he followed her. She forced herself to look back at Roslin with a smile.

Edmure leaned into his bride’s ear to whisper something and Roslin gasped, “Oh yeah! OK, so I came up here to thank two very special people! To Jaime and Brienne! Where are you guys, come here!”

Tyrion looked at Brienne and if she wasn’t mistaken, it looked almost as if he was about to laugh.

She scowled, but stomped over to the dance floor, grasping her bloodied napkin in the palm of her hand. Jaime walked over as well, but his grin was charming and disarming, as if she hadn’t just socked him in the face.

“You two,” Roslin slurred into the microphone as soon as they stood in the center of the floor, “are amazing. To Jaime and Brienne!”

Edmure took the microphone away from his wife, “To Jaime and Brienne, indeed, after all, if we had found either of you remotely attractive, we would not be here today!” he laughed.

The crowd laughed with him, while scandalized Roslin apologized for her husband into the microphone, “I think he’s had a bit too many,” she slurred before joining in on the toast and laughter.

The sting of the insult didn’t bother Brienne. Nor did the laughter.

It was the livid look on Jaime’s face that bothered her, as if he had a right to be angry on her behalf.

She itched to punch him in the face again.

* * *

 

“I don’t know why you think I should call her after that disastrous wedding,” Jaime grumbled to his brother.

They were at Tyrion’s favorite dive bar, something sketchy and sleazy that Tyrion had probably already slept his way through. The worst part of the place was the smell, though. Something between rotten eggs and used condoms.

“I met her and somehow, despite looking the way I do and you looking the way you do, I know more about women than you do, so trust me - she misses you too.”

Jaime made a face at his barbecue wings. They tasted like crap.

“Just call her. As many times as necessary. Or at least until she tells you to stop, you don’t want a restraining order after all,” Tyrion stated. After a sip of his beer he spoke again, “Or another punch in the face.” 

Jaime rolled his eyes, “The punch in the face thing was a one time deal… probably.” He touched his nose and winced. It was still fragile, “And as to the restraining order I feel like you might have a story to go along with that.”

 “Possibly but it’s not one I need to tell you. Just go after her, please. I actually like this one.”

“What do you mean this one?” Jaime asked, his eyes narrowed.

Tyrion held his hands up with a smile, “Peace, brother, I only mean she’s the only friend of yours that I like. Edmure and I don’t really get along and I don’t think I’m aware of any of your other friends.”

“I have friends.”

“Sure you do,” Tyrion soothed although the effect of his calming tone was ruined by his smirk.

“Shut up.”

When Jaime got home, he thought more on his brother’s advice. While his brother certainly had some sort of angle in Jaime’s friendship with Brienne (although what the angle was, Jaime couldn’t fathom), Tyrion’s advice was sound. Someone needed to stop running and Jaime knew the stubborn wench well enough to know it wasn’t going to be her.

He would have to do it.

With a heavy sigh, he grabbed his phone and typed in the numbers he knew by heart.

And reached Brienne’s fucking voicemail.

With impatience that could only be matched by a child’s, Jaime slammed the phone back down into its cradle.

He knew he was sulking and angry. After all, why should she be there waiting for him to call her?

She was probably out with Renly. Talking about stupid stuff that only Renly Baratheon knew about. Or with Roslin and Edmure.

Hanging out with friends without him. Despite being each other’s best friend.

Jaime growled and reached for the phone once again, this time making it all the way through to the voicemail, “It’s me… Jaime. Call me back, please, when you get the chance.”

He put the phone back where it belonged and slid down onto the floor.

And waited.

But she never called back.

* * *

 

Brienne was hanging up ornaments on her Christmas tree when she noticed she had three new messages.

She knew it was probably her father, checking in on her. He was worried that she was growing unhappy in the city, and was trying to convince her to move further south, if not back to her hometown. He missed her terribly, she could hear it in his gravelly voice, when he asked her if she was still growing.

Brienne missed him too and was excited to hear his messages, expecting them to be about the holidays or gossip about her hometown.

But instead, she heard Jaime’s voice. And so she stood there, gaping at her telephone as it played three very different messages.

 

> _“It’s me… Jaime. Call me back, please, when you get the chance.”_  
>   
>  _“Hey, Brienne, it’s me again, I’m assuming you’re trapped under something heavy since you’re not answering, that or you’re still out and about. But anyways, call me if you push the heavy thing off you, we all know you’re strong enough. Use those muscles, wench.”_  
>  _  
> __“Oh wait, I forgot to mention Tyrion says hi. But yeah, call me back... please.”_

He spoke as if they had never fought. As if she hadn’t punched him in the face at their friend’s wedding. As if he hadn’t kissed her _everywhere_ in the very room she stood in.

She deleted the messages as soon as she was able to get over her shock, although her anger refused to leave. What made him think it was ok to call her like that? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?

It took two weeks of stupid messages for her to finally answer him. She knew on the third ring of the phone that it was him and hurried to pick it up, unable to stand hearing his voice on her voicemail every day when she got home.

“Jaime,” she greeted curtly.

“Brienne?” Jaime exhaled, as if he couldn’t believe she was answering, “I’m so glad you answered.”

He almost sounded like a little boy, she noticed, “What do you want, Jaime?

“I don’t know,” his voice roughened, “Uh, what are you doing for New Year’s?”

Brienne couldn’t bring herself to say anything. She did have plans, with Edmure and Roslin to go to some stupid fancy party where she’d have to wear a dress and heels and look like an idiot. She hated looking like an idiot.

“Uh, well, we could be each other’s dates, if that’d be ok, friend-dates and-“

“I’m not a prize,” Brienne declared, her voice hard. She could feel her insides turning to stone.

“Uh-“ he sounded taken-aback, “I know that, Brienne.”

And she knew he did. He understood her better than anyone.

But he was still a man who thought she would come when he called. As if she waited for him to save her.

Brienne was the hero, not Jaime Lannister.

“Jaime, I can’t. I can’t do this. I’m not a toy. Goodbye.”

And when she pressed the phone into its cradle, she felt as if she smothered the last embers of their friendship. It almost felt as if she betrayed Jaime, but she didn’t. She couldn’t have.

Their friendship ended as soon as he left her apartment with his tail between his legs. It’s impossible to betray a friendship that didn’t exist anymore.

Although that didn’t stop the guilt from overwhelming her when Roslin and Edmure picked her up New Years Eve.

“You look beautiful, Brienne,” Roslin exclaimed, scooting into the backseat of the cab more to let Brienne in. Edmure grunted in agreement with his wife before instructing the cab driver where to go.

Brienne smiled tightly, unable to ignore the lie that her friend spouted. She didn’t look beautiful, she looked like an oddity in a fancy blue dress that was probably two inches too short. This stupid, too short dress that Roslin forced her to buy at their last shopping excursion almost let her ass hang out which is why she was so tightly wrapped up in her winter weather gear. Because if she wasn’t, she’d freeze to death in the piece of cloth that others called a dress.

Roslin was squished between Brienne and Edmure, but her smile was as bright as ever, “I’m so excited about this. I haven’t been to a classy New Year’s Party in ages!”

“Well, they aren’t that exciting, but I’m glad you’re happy,” Edmure said, squeezing Roslin’s hand. Brienne pretended not to notice the sappy looks they exchanged, instead she glanced out the window where people were already drinking in the streets and celebrating.

New York City was much happier than she was right now. Not that it would be hard to be happier than Brienne was, she reflected as she, Edmure, and Roslin split the bill of the taxi and walked into the lobby of the hotel where the party was being hosted.

But some of the smiles had to be faked? Didn’t they?

Or was everyone as truly as thrilled to be out in a gaudy ballroom wearing uncomfortable clothes as they acted?

Edmure spun Roslin around with a joyful laugh and Brienne watched them, smiling sadly.

Loneliness swept her up and she suddenly just wanted to hail a cab and go home already. She shouldn’t be here.

Not at this kind of party, where couples swarmed the floor in gowns and suits, where the ladies were, at the worst, pretty and the men swooped up the most beautiful ones as fast as they can.

She belonged at home in her pajamas watching Dick Clark count down to midnight, eating ice cream out of the carton with a spoon.

She didn’t belong to a place with such extravagance and beauty.

Maybe Jaime did.

But she didn't.

* * *

 

“God damn it,” Jaime cursed as he fiddled with the back of his television.

The television wasn’t working right. He couldn’t see Dick Clark’s comforting face at all. Only static.

What was the point in being stuck in at New Year’s Eve if you couldn’t watch Dick Clark? Answer: there was no point.

He gave up on the fiddling and kicked the damn thing, hoping for a miracle, and still nothing. Jaime was almost tempted to call Tyrion to see if his little brother would help him out with New Year’s Eve plans but for some reason he couldn’t bear the idea of tagging along with his little brother.

So he sat on his couch.

Bored.

And alone.

He eyed his phone and thought about trying to call Brienne one more time before remembering that Edmure told him that Brienne was going out to a party with him and Roslin.

“She doesn’t like those kinds of parties,” Jaime had said at the time. Edmure shrugged unhelpfully, muttering something about Roslin having plans for Brienne. Jaime hoped that they didn't involve throwing Brienne to the wolves. Brienne didn't deserve to be forced into dealing with undeserving men.  

He could imagine her now, frowning and trying to hide her large frame in a corner, as if no one could see her hulking figure hiding. His heart ached for her. The party would be hard for her to deal with, he knew.

Jaime had been having lots of thoughts about Brienne in this regard. Sympathy overwhelmed his anger at her because he knew that he shouldn’t be angry. At least not at her, if he had to be angry, he knew he should be angry at himself.

But he didn’t really want to be. Brienne was doing that better than he could anyways. He smiled a little.

He missed her.

But he had to have sex with her didn’t he? He had to fulfill his own damn prophecy about men and women, something that he didn’t even really believe anymore.

He had plenty of female friends that he didn’t really want to have sex with and that he was vaguely sure didn't want to have sex with him. Jaime hadn’t touched another woman since Brienne and he honestly couldn’t imagine looking into anyone else’s eyes but her blue ones ever again.

It took Jaime a moment to realize what his thoughts meant, “ _Fuck_.”

It took him less than three minutes to grab his coat and scarf and run out of his apartment building. He was grateful that he knew where he was going, Edmure not being able to keep his mouth shut was useful for once, and so he ran, as fast as he possibly could. Which wasn’t as fast as it should have been, but it was hard for him to run in the mornings without Brienne by his side.

Everything was harder without Brienne by his side, he recognized, pumping his legs faster in an effort to get to the hotel.

Some women in dark eye makeup catcalled as he ran past, and he smiled at them, wincing as the cold wind embraced him.

But he pushed forward until he finally arrived at the ostentatious hotel. 

Completely out of breath, and definitely not in the right clothes.

Thank God he was born with the Lannister name that would allow him in anywhere. He ambled past the check-in counter and headed right for the door to the ballroom, where a stern security man stood watch. Jaime prepared to charm the hell out of him using whatever means necessary.

But was startled out of his fake smile by Brienne who was plodding out the doorway, much too early, in a shockingly short dress – although Jaime had to admit the view was nice. Her legs really did go on for miles.

Brienne didn’t notice him at first, although it was probably his newly grown beard that caused this, after all she hadn't seen him in a full beard in over a year or so. Since they last "re-met" if he was remembering correctly. She politely thanked the security guard for opening the door and headed straight to the coat check where a bored teenager was working as the coat check clerk. Jaime followed her there, casually, as if he just needed to check in his coat. He didn't want to scare her.

It was only after she received her items and started walking for the entrance that she noticed him.

He smiled gently, “Hello, Brienne.”

“Jaime,” Brienne nodded curtly and, despite this, Jaime’s smile grew.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, you know,” Jaime began, watching her. Her blonde hair was in a plaited bun that only made her eyes shine even more.

Brienne stared at him.

“The thing is,” he continued slowly moving towards her. She didn’t back away, instead she drew herself up even taller, like an animal who wished to intimidate their predator, “I love you.”

She said nothing.

 “I love you, Brienne,” Jaime repeated. 

Brienne frowned irritably, completely ignoring what he said, “What do you want from me?”

Jaime reached for her hand, but she pulled away, “A confession that you love me too would be pretty nice.”

“Oh, is that all, Jaime?” Her sarcasm amused him more than it hurt him.

“Yes,” he smiled, trying to show his sincerity.

“I meant what I said the other day, Jaime. You don’t just get me as a second place trophy,” she lectured, while putting on her ugly, yellow jacket that clashed terribly with her straw colored hair and her dark blue dress, “Just because you say you love me.”

He watched her, amused, “I know.”

She stopped putting on her jacket to stare at him with a frown, “You know?”

She looked so tall and severe and Jaime couldn’t help but love her more for it, “I know. But that doesn’t stop me from loving you.” I could never stop, Jaime wanted to say, but kept his mouth shut.

She shrugged on her horrendous, golden jacket and the frown lines deepened, “Jaime, you’re just lonely and sad. You miss Cersei. It’s New Year’s-”

He interrupted, “No, I don’t miss Cersei, I miss you. I love _you_.”

“No, you don’t,” she corrected. The damnable stubborn wench, he thought with admiration.

“Yes. I do," he laughed, "I love you, Brienne. I love that you tower over me, I love that you try to hide your grins from me because you’re afraid it’ll only encourage me, I love that you let me call you wench, I love that you are willing to fight me for the things that matter, I love that you think you’re faster than me, I love that your beautiful blue eyes that reveal every single thought you’re thinking, and I love that you’re so innocent and honest and good and that you’re exactly who everyone should dream of being.”

Brienne’s jaw dropped enough for Jaime to spy the pink of her tongue and he smiled at her, desperately hoping that he disarmed her enough that she’d admit she loved him too. Because he knew she did. He wasn’t lying when he said her eyes revealed her thoughts. She loved him.

She struggled to speak, “I – I think you need to go, Jaime.”

“No. I’m not running away again.”

She blinked at him, looking sad and confused. Jaime wanted to grab her and hug her or fight her or _something_ to let her know that he wasn’t leaving her ever again.

“I-“ she stumbled over her heeled shoes and Jaime caught her in his arms without thinking.

Her eyes were big and blue and frightened. He could hear the crowd in the ballroom cheering the countdown behind them, but was too busy looking into Brienne’s eyes to care.

“I wish I could hate you,” she whispered, “I want to hate you, Jaime. But I can’t, I miss you so much.”

Her beautiful eyes welled up with tears and Jaime kissed her then, softly pressing his lips against the side of her mouth, just enough so she could turn away if she wanted to.

Brienne didn’t want to.

Jaime broke away and laughed, while she flushed.

“I take it that you’re into me too,” he waggled his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes that were now miraculously tear-free.

“Yes, I guess I am,” she said, a smile creeping on her lips as she spoke.

He caressed her waist as they listened to the crowd sing “Auld Lang Syne.”

“What is this song anyways, I always wonder about it. Old acquaintances forgotten? What is the point to this song? It just seems stupid,” he whispered, trying to make her laugh.

Brienne bent her head down and kissed him so lightly it was as if she hadn’t done it at all, “It’s about old friends,” she murmured, before kissing him again.

Jaime would never tire of kissing her.

Or loving her.

She spoke again once they pulled apart, this time with a mischevious smile on her face that he sorely missed, “I think we know how important old friends are, so perhaps you should appreciate this song a bit more . . . considering.”

He shrugged playfully and winked, “Eh, they aren’t _that_ important.”

Brienne responded by hitting him on the shoulder. And Jaime responded to her by kissing her again.

And again.

And again.

* * *

 

 

 

**One year later.**

 

_A very tall, broad woman sits on the loveseat next to a very handsome man. They are one of the oddest couples that has been set up in front of the camera for the interviews, if not the oddest._

_The good-looking man smiles at the camera as if he had been living for the camera his whole life, while his wife sits awkwardly beside him, her back straight and a permanent frown etched onto her face._

_“We hated each other when we met,” the man states abruptly, “Didn’t we, Brienne?”_

_She sighs, “No, I hated you, Jaime. You didn’t care about me either way.”_

_His green eyes twinkle as if he had purposefully messed up their story, while Brienne continues to speak, “And you didn’t even remember me the second time we met.”_

_“Yes, I did,” Jaime laughs._

_Brienne glares exasperatedly at him, although this is tempered by the sparkle in her blue eyes, “Sure you did.”_

_“I swear it, wench,” he grins._

_She rolls her eyes before facing the camera again, “We became friends the third time we met.”_

_“Best friends,” Jaime corrects._

_“For a long time,” Brienne adds._

_“Until I screwed up,” Jaime remarks, grabbing his wife’s hands. She glances at their shared hands with a fond smile._

_“It’s all right, we fell in love,” she says, her hand squeezing his._

_“And got married and the whole shebang,” Jaime grins, “Even expecting a baby.”_

_“Jaime!”_

_“What?” Jaime laughs, not even pretending to be contrite about his revelation, “I’m happy.”_

_Brienne’s glare softens into a smile, “I am too.”_

_Their eyes meet in quiet serenity and it’s as if the camera is gone._

_And while the scene ends, their story has just begun._

 

 

 

  **The ~~End~~   _Beginning_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay it's finished!!  
> You will note that this chapter's "couple interview" took place at the end and not the beginning, for obvious reasons. ;)  
> But seriously, thank you all for sticking with me on this, I know this chapter is a bit later than I said it would be published, but real life got in the way as it tends to do and I had some issues writing a few parts of this chapter.  
> I hope you all liked it and that it made you smile and cheer! I am eager to hear your thoughts about it.


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